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CHAPTER EIGHT

MIRROR OF STREAK

15 October 2015

Two months after Street Guard's death

I had been a superhero for less than a year, but I already had some pretty serious challenges. But the real hardest thing I ever had to do by then was to tell Winter Lucas that her daughter, Mariana, was the superheroine known as Street Guard. Not because I wanted to, but because I should. She deserved to know about her daughter and how she died. It wasn't an easy task. Amazingly, I also worked up the courage to be fully honest with her and explain the part I played. Namely, I explained that, under Manasa's influence, it was I who captured Street Guard.

That was a lot to hit her with, so I started with the first half, about how Mrs. Lucas' daughter was now deceased, and that she was the superheroine Street Guard. Of course, she was hurt by the revelation. Her daughter had been fighting crime for over ten years, and Winter never figured out until then. It shook her to learn that she died. I hated having to tell her this, but the worst was yet to come. A week later, I checked up on Winter. She was doing well, having acknowledged her daughter's death, but life was hard for her. It pained me to tell her that I was partly to blame, and immediately she reacted angrily, demanding that I leave, but I gave her all the apologies I could.

I returned to Winter's serene home in the suburbs outside the city every week to make sure she was still okay, and eventually paid another proper visit once again, hoping I had given her plenty of time to come to grips with her tragedy. Although I doubted she would ever forgive me, all that mattered to me was her wellbeing. She was the mother of the heroine and friend I had failed, and I intended to make it up to her.

It wasn't a pleasant day. A depressing overcast over the quiet neighbourhood only fuelled my anxiousness. Thankfully, I arrived before it could rain, so I wouldn't show up soaking wet. I knocked on the door of her home. A few seconds later, I heard the sound of footsteps on the other side before keys turned and the door opened.

"Oh!" said Winter, a brown-furred rabbit with soft, gentle features in her old age. I didn't sense any anger or disappointment in her voice though. Just surprise. "Streak!"

"Hi, Mrs. Lucas," I said. Then I forget the words I rehearsed on the way. "I... Er... I was just wondering how you've been doing?"

"Oh, I'm doing fine," she said, still not looking very angry as she relaxed. She looked a little relieved too. "Would you like to come in? The forecast says we're getting rain soon."

I was somewhat taken aback by her offer, but I knew what I had to do. "Yes, please, ma'am."

She stood aside, allowing me room to enter. After closing the door, she led me into the living room. All around me was furniture that I guessed was from the 50s, all of it decorated with trinkets and memorabilia built up after a long life. There was no television, so I assumed she wasn't invested in watching the news, which would help explain why she never figured out that her daughter was Street Guard. Judging from the slightly peeling flowery wallpaper, this had been the family's house for decades.

"Please, make yourself comfortable," she said, beckoning me to sit on the couch.

I complied, gently taking my place on the comfy furniture. It was made of some kind of very soft fabric, and it felt warm on the back of my bare thighs. The whole room was at a perfect temperature that I wasn't used to, what with spending most of my time outside.

"Would you like some coffee?" she asked.

I didn't want to be rude. "I'd be very grateful, Mrs. Lucas," I said.

She left for the kitchen, returning seconds later with a cup. She put it down on the small table in front of us.

"Thank you," I said. Then I took a deep breath. "Listen, Mrs. Lucas, I wanted to say--"

"Shush. It's okay," she suddenly interrupted, as if she expected me to make my apology. She sat down on what I assumed was her armchair. "I understand. Mariana had times when monstrous people used and manipulated her as well. It wasn't her fault then. It's not your fault now."

I emptied the air in my lungs that I didn't realise I was holding in. A huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders. So much for my planned speech, but I couldn't have expected things to go any better. It was good to see her content.

"I forgave you weeks ago. I was worried I would never have a chance to tell you that. Thank you for coming."

"That's okay, ma'am. I'm just glad to see you're doing well. How have things been?"

"It's still been hard. I won't lie." She looked down at her paws, shifting a little. "Mariana and I spoke almost every week, and it's been a challenge to remind myself that... we don't do that anymore."

"I'm sorry," I said.

"I can't deny I'm still a bit angry at my daughter. She needed to be so like her father. But I know why she didn't tell me. I would've been furious that she had found a way to follow her father's footsteps. But, like her father, she died doing what she loved and what she felt was right. I'll always be proud of both of them for that."

That was an example I could get behind. I didn't know Street Guard for long, but she was a real hero in many ways. She actually convinced me to wait to join the Beacon City Vigils because she knew I'd be overwhelmed from being surrounded by all my heroes, feeling I couldn't live up to them. She was a people person, and she knew things about you before you could tell her.

"I was foolish," Winter continued. "So many years and I never imagined that she was Street Guard. Maybe I would've found out if I watched the news more often. But I never cared for this superhero business. I only ever wanted a quiet life. I'm just glad that my Mariana was happy with her job."

"She was," I said. "I can say from experience. She was really proud to do what she did. I don't think I've ever seen anyone more confident in their life choices than her."

"Oh, I can definitely believe that. I never should have held her back. It might have hurt me more if she felt unsatisfied with her life. I never wanted her to be unhappy. But I guess I was selfish and put my own happiness before hers. She needed to be like her father. I shouldn't have got in the way. Maybe... Maybe she'd be the chief of police right now if..."

"No, you just wanted to keep her safe," I responded, quickly. I didn't want her feeling guilty now. "Any good mother would."

She smiled at me with a lot of relief. I think she needed to be told that she was a good mother after the inevitable guilt had set in. But I had to admit, she was an inspiration to me. She lost so much, and yet she still went on. This gentle old woman had a strength I could only hope to have.

A sudden muffled buzzing broke the silence. I reached into my boot to remove the hidden pager Sergeant Blake had lent to me.

"What's that?" Winter asked.

"Well, after I was enslaved and used by villains twice," I said, reddening face full of shame, "the police said the least I could do is basically carry a little pager so that they could get in contact with me at a moment's notice."

I read the message on the little device: "Needed. Tech warehouse. McEdison Street."

"I'm sorry," I said with a sigh. "I have to leave." Then I stood.

She nodded. "I understand."

Standing herself, she led me to the door. She was agile and energetic for her age.

I felt like I was forgetting something. Then I remembered. "Sorry for never drinking the coffee, ma'am."

"Don't worry about it," she said, opening the door. As I stepped through, out into the gloomy day, she waved goodbye with a smile. "Go get 'em, Streak!"

•••

It was the late afternoon when I arrived at the warehouse on the edge of town, riding on top of a large delivery van. I jumped off to take in my surroundings, narrowly avoiding landing in a little puddle. The thick overcast, blocking out the warm sun's rays, had begun to release a soft shower. Not much, but enough to make my leotard cling to my fur as the fabric soaked up the moisture. Outside the warehouse, in the parking lot I arrived in, were the police. About ten of them stood between three cruisers.

"Streak! Hey!" said Sergeant Ryan Blake. A blue jay, I knew him best in the Beacon City Police Department, since he was assigned as my personal supervisor. He spoke with an authoritative, but still somehow gentle voice. "Glad you're here. The other heroes are either indisposed or... well, no longer with us."

"Hi, Sergeant. What seems to be the problem?" I asked as I approached the BCPD veteran, trying to sound professional.

"Break-in. Looks like the work of a supervillain. We thought some tights could help us identify the culprit." Then the officer's cheeks reddened somewhat. "Oh, I never gave you my sympathies, by the way. I understand your image has had some problems, what with your enslavement to Manasa and Dirtbag recently."

"Yeah," I responded, rubbing the back of my neck. I didn't like thinking about it, but I was grateful to Blake for the concern. "Thanks."

"But you've been doing a good job recently, kid. So don't let all that stuff get you down."

We didn't delay any further. I walked up beside Blake and we headed into the warehouse. As we moved, I looked around at the professional cops, entertained by their work as they questioned employees, examined evidence, put up "crime scene" tape, and even did paperwork.

"It's a storage facility," said Blake as we entered the warehouse through an open garage door, revealing row upon row of huge racks holding large crates. "Naturally, we immediately assumed some supervillain needed tech for their evil scheme of the week, but there's just one problem: nothing was stolen."

We stopped walking when we came to an area of the floor covered in a layer of broken glass shards. The rain was filling in from the shattered skylight above, splattering down on them.

"Entryway?" I asked.

"You'd think so, but no. One of the side doors was kicked in from the outside. What you're looking at is the suspect's escape, among other things. This is where we thought your senses might come in handy."

"Go on."

"There's a pretty big chunk of metal up on the roof," said Blake, looking up at the shattered skylight. "Heavy as hell. We know it was taken from the warehouse, and judging from all the glass on the roof, we believe it was thrown up there."

That was alarming. That kind of strength definitely indicated we were dealing with superpowers.

"What hunk of metal? A machine?" I asked.

"Looks like the chassis of some industrial engine. So far, the only thing we can think of is the culprit tried to steal it and got spooked off."

"I'll see what I can do. Give me a minute."

I closed my eyes and Falcon activated my Omni-sight. My vision left my head, flying through the warehouse as I directed it with my will, exploring the side rooms and quickly skimming the area for any other clues. I got a good idea of the warehouse's layout, familiarising myself with the general shape as I found the intruder's entry point, saw how far they needed to travel to the skylight, and checked if anything else was disturbed along the way.

Shutting down my Omni-sight, I decided it was time to check out the roof personally. Opening my eyes, I turned to Blake, pointed up, and asked "May I?"

"Be my guest," Blake responded, readily. "The boys up there will show you around."

I crouched before launching myself up, grabbing onto the edges of the skylight nearly ten metres up and climbing onto the roof. Soft droplets of rain hitting me yet again, I took in my new surroundings. Three cops were up there, searching for clues among the shards of glass lying all over the expansive roof, making it very clear that the engine was thrown through the skylight from below. Nearby was the engine.

"Oh, hey, Streak!" said one of the cops, a male rat. I was surprised by how happy he looked to see me.

"Hi!" I responded, waving to him. I kinda liked the guy. He seemed genuinely excited to meet a superhero, and he didn't seem particularly disillusioned by my reputation either.

"The only thing I can deduce is that the perpetrator intended to cause random damage," said Falcon, his voice in my mind. "There are no other signs of a struggle."

"We need more clues," I said, getting on all fours to begin sniffing around. My enhanced senses could maybe give me something.

The cops were watching. "What's he doing?" one of them asked. A female Dalmatian.

"Sniffing for clues," said the excited one. "Streak's senses are more advanced than ours."

I detected a trail near the shattered skylight and followed it, heading in the direction of the engine, as expected. The question was, where did the culprit go after throwing it? I approached the machine.

"Finger dents," said the excited officer, pointing to an area on the machine's steel casing. "Right there. See?"

He was right. There were marks in the steel shaped like someone's paws. They couldn't have been mine since I held the object from other areas. But they weren't especially big, so at least I knew this villain wasn't a giant.

I sniffed around the steel casing, focusing in on the culprit's paw prints in the metal. Looking closely, I realised one of the prints went into a gap in the casing. I decided to put my own fingers in, and I could see that it definitely allowed for a better grip. I dug my fingers in and lifted. It wasn't hard, and I definitely could have thrown it up through the skylight. But it was way too heavy for any normal person, so there was no doubt that someone with enhanced strength was responsible. I put it down.

Then the panel came free, launching out of the machine, and I was thrown back some distance by the incredible force. That wasn't my doing. Something had forced the panel open from the inside, pushing outward with some serious power. Falling back on the roof, I rolled briefly to a stop before I could damage my costume on the glass scattered around, managing to stabilise myself. Recovered, the panel skidded to a halt further along behind me as I looked to see who I had to blame.

A lithe but toned black-furred fox was inside the hollow machine, curled up with a leg outstretched, indicating that he had kicked the panel open. As he began to climb out and stand up, I got a good look at his outfit. He wore a high-cut white leotard with a black belt and red pelvic area, with his arms and legs laid bare. The belt and the slightly widened armholes of the uniform made me think of Raptor's outfit. He also wore tight red boots up to his calves and a metal collar around his neck with a little green light. But his creepiest features were his face and posture. His eyes were totally white, and his jaw hung open like he was in some kind of stupor. His arms seemed to hang limply like a zombie. I felt my skin crawl beneath my fur from just looking at him, though there was something eerily familiar about him.

"Stop right there!" yelled the excitable police officer, having already drawn his pistol and now aimed it at the creepy culprit.

"Identify yourself!" I yelled, firmly. I wanted him to know that I meant business.

The guy seemed to breathe harder like he was putting effort into thinking. Then he pointed at me.

"Streak..." he said, but his voice was monotone, tired, and lazy. Then he pointed at himself. "Streak... Must obey..."

I felt sick as an idea took root in my brain and started to grow. His voice sounded exactly like mine.

He stood up straighter like he was slowly rebooting. "Streak... I... I am... you."

"I believe he is saying that he is your clone, my friend," said Falcon. "Everything about his apparent physiology is identical to yours, with the exception of the black fur."

If I had anything in my stomach, I would've thrown up right there. My heart was racing with the uncertainty I felt in response to this revelation. Where did this... thing... come from? What did it want?

"Falcon..." said the clone, still monotone. "I... I can hear you."

I took a step back. If this thing could hear Falcon, it would be difficult to strategise with him without the clone knowing our plans.

"It was a trap," Falcon was saying, and I came to the same conclusion. "With you as the only superhero available currently, the clone took the opportunity to create a situation where you would be summoned. Then he struck."

"He doesn't seem very intelligent," I responded, gritting my teeth to try and restrain my fear. I had no idea what this clone was capable of, but I knew I was about to find out. "I doubt he orchestrated this himself."

"Good point. Perhaps his creator is the mastermind behind this. Judging from his attire, his loyalties may belong to Raptor."

"We'll find out when we--"

I couldn't finish my sentence before the clone, lightning fast, dashed towards me. He threw his full weight into my stomach and we fell right through the skylight, back into the warehouse. On the way down, my back hit a big metal crate on one of the storage racks, bouncing off it before we both landed on the concrete ground. While the clone rolled away, I was on my back, groaning in response to the tingly pins and needles running through me after the two collisions.

The cops around us weren't oblivious. Most of them were frozen, unsure of what to do, but they were also clearly terrified.

"Get some backup!" yelled Blake to one of his fellow officers. "We got a supervillain right here!"

The clone was already on him, swinging a kick through the air to hit him in the shoulder with a loud crack, sending Blake flying a good distance before landing on the concrete floor. There was no way his arm wasn't broken, and his yell of agony confirmed it.

"Hands in the air!" yelled another officer, gun trained on the clone.

The officer was down before he could blink. In two swift moves, the clone had kicked the pistol from his paw and drove a boot into his stomach. There was only one officer left, and he was running to the exit to get the attention of the officers outside. Demonstrating some noticeable intelligence, the clone turned his focus onto the fleeing officer, knowing he was going to bring friends, and ran after him.

I wasn't letting that happen. By the time the clone started running, I had already mostly recovered and threw myself into him, stopping him in his tracks. As we both rolled through the air, I found my footing, stopped, and tossed the clone halfway across the warehouse. His lithe body crashed into a wooden crate in one of the racks, totally shattering it and scattering the metal pipes within. The devious clone lay on the debris, hopefully downed.

"You're done, pal!" I called, still in a battle stance. I wasn't taking any chances.

Suddenly, the clone was up again, and he was gripping one of the steel pipes. In a surprisingly elegant and well-executed move, he threw the pipe in my direction like a spear with some impressive force. I could hear the wind rushing through the hollow chamber within as it flew through the air towards me.

I easily dodged to the side with room to spare, and the pipe whistled past me. But the clone was running at me, his eyes still empty and his face expressionless. This time I was ready, and I blocked his attempt at a punch to my head with my right arm, and the clone lost balance. Before he could fall to the side, I quickly retaliated with a punch to his belly with my other paw.

The clone cried out as my fist reached its target, rapidly decompressing his lungs. But I wasn't done. I firmly gripped the arm he tried to punch me with, and that was all I needed. Pulling hard, I used my grip to throw him a second time. This time he skidded against the ground, barely avoiding the shards of shattered glass as he regained his footing.

"He seems to be weaker than you," said Falcon. "I sense that he is currently as powerful as the first Streak when I first bonded with him. That was long ago, so you have grown immensely since then."

He was right. The clone didn't have my strength, but he was still empowered way beyond a normal person. I had to take him down before he hurt anyone else. I had a big advantage over him, so I had to be careful not to waste it.

"Where's your master?" I called out. "We're not done until I get answers!"

The clone stood up. His expression was still blank, continuing to give me the creeps. Then, when we both heard running footsteps, his head turned to face the main entrance down the aisle of racks.

"Stop right there!" yelled a cop, a whole squad following behind him. Their guns were drawn and at the ready.

"Master wants Streak..." said the clone.

He wasted no time. He leapt up onto a nearby rack before leaping again even higher. An officer fired a warning shot, and the bullet ricocheted off the rack's metal supports. The clone was unscathed and continued his climb, and quickly leapt out through the skylight.

I wasn't about to let him get away. I ran for the area the clone was mere seconds ago before jumping with my powerful legs. One leap took me half-way to the ceiling as I latched onto a rack, and another took me right through the skylight, back out into the grey, rainy open air.

"Stop!" I yelled the moment I saw the clone. He was sprinting away towards the very edge of the warehouse roof. The cops up there were gone, likely having descended to the ground floor earlier in pursuit of the clone.

I ran after the culprit as fast as my legs could carry me. He had a great head start, but I was already gaining on him, whether because he was weaker than me or because of his injuries.

Reaching the edge of the roof, he launched into the air and latched onto the wall of the next building, crossing over into the commercial district. He began to climb. That's when I received another message from my pager, buzzing in my boot. I knew what Blake wanted without having to look.

"This is getting out of paw," said Falcon. "It would be wise to notify the police. We cannot risk going after him alone. This may be a trap, as the clone's words implied. His master wants you."

"No," I responded out loud as I ran. "You saw what he did to those cops. I have to stop this guy before he escapes, and away from people!"

"They are police. They fight crime just as you do."

"This could be too much for them, Falcon! Besides, we can't go back now or we'll lose him!"

I leapt over to the next building and grabbed the wall. I immediately began propelling myself up the rows of window frames.

As I climbed, following behind the elusive clone, there was silence until Falcon finally spoke again. "You feel guilty for what happened to Bedrock and Street Guard."

I didn't respond, telling myself that I needed to stay focused on what I had to do.

"You cannot deny it, my friend," he continued. "Your thoughts, emotions, and memories are open to me."

"I just don't want anyone else getting hurt, okay?!" I snapped, frustrated.

"Either way, selfless though you may be, you are also being foolish."

Once again, I didn't respond.

I reached the top of the building. At the far end of the roof, the clone leapt over to the next. I continued running after him, leaping over to the same building. I was quickly catching up, but also getting impatient. I wanted to end this chase before the clone could lead me somewhere I didn't wanna be.

The clone was nearly at the edge of the next roof. I took a chance and jumped into him before he could make another leap. I collided with his back, wrapping my arms around him, but we didn't hit the roof as I expected. No, the two of us fell down the gap between the two buildings. Laundry lines hung between the two structures, and we fell into the drying clothing, slowing our fall before we both got tangled.

We struggled in our bindings. The strings were weak, but we couldn't simply break them. We were still high up, and a fall from this height could kill us. Instead, I focused on subjugating my foe, throwing a punch to strike his face. It connected, but he didn't seem to respond, and he retaliated silently with a punch of his own. I blocked and shoved another fist into his face. He let out a small grunt of pain but he still didn't seem bothered.

Then I heard a snap and the clone fell free. Fortunately for him, he grabbed hold of a few more laundry lines, helping to slow his fall before landing on the street below. Totally unharmed, he continued running.

"Stop!" I yelled, desperately trying to orient myself into a good position, but I was still thoroughly tangled.

I was losing precious seconds. Deciding to take the risk, I pulled forcefully and tore my binds, ripping the laundry lines apart. With my body freed, I fell, and my doom was fast approaching seven storeys below. If I didn't land in a good position or slow my fall, I was dead.

Reaching my arms wide, I reached for the few remaining laundry lines between me and the ground. I managed to catch a few lines, but each one snapped from my weight and speed. Thankfully, each line I grabbed slowed my descent just a little more. A few storeys later, I made a perfect landing.

"Alright," said Falcon. "Now, follow him!"

I ran at full speed down the alley, tracing the clone's steps. I barely avoided colliding with a bystander. I eventually caught sight of the clone, dodging cleanly around boxes, dumpsters, and fences, but I kept my pace. I wasn't gonna let him escape. He was too big of a threat, along with his creator. I needed to find out more.

After a few twists and turns through the narrow streets, I saw the clone throw himself through the hollow doorway of an abandoned building. The glass windows were shattered, and the whole place looked hollow and lifeless, with only darkness visible through the many openings.

"Be careful. Remember, this is clearly a trap."

Slowing down, I quietly moved through the hollow doorway. While my eyes adjusted to the dark, I focused my hearing, listening for even the slightest movement. Doing my best to keep my footsteps quiet, I moved through the dark space in search of my abominable foe.

"It's a violation," I thought to myself. "If Raptor's really behind this, he's as vile as I thought."

"I assume he acquired the genetic material during your long enslavements to Manasa," replied Falcon. "She may even have given him the task."

"Whatever. I'll make him pay."

I found a basement staircase. I took it and descended quickly but quietly. By now my eyes had finished adjusting to the darkness, and I could see well enough as I entered the basement.

"Do not do anything you might regret, my friend. Wait, listen!"

Just as I reached the bottom of the stairs, I heard footsteps. Distant and stealthy, but I heard them. I stopped, frozen solid, as my ears perked up at full attention.

Then I heard them. Footsteps. Exactly like those of the clone. He was here. Then a cold shiver ran down my spine when I heard two pairs of running footsteps in the darkness, one on either side of me, somewhere nearby. I heard more footsteps, then more, and I realised the reality of the trap the clone had lured me to.

"We're surrounded..." I said, sighing with fear as my heart raced.

Then I saw those eyes. Those haunting blank white eyes. The clone had come out of hiding, staring at me as he slowly drew closer. Turning to the side, I saw another clone, emerging from behind a decaying wall. Then another made himself known. With a few more glances here and there, I counted about five of them in total.

A light bulb blinked to life above me, and I got a good look at the clones, all of them wearing the same red and white leotards, red boots, and mechanical collars. It was dead silent, all of them just looking at me with this cold, dead eyes. You could hear a pin drop.

"Streak... fall in trap," a clone finally said, as monotone as the first. "Streak... surrender?"

I could take one of them on, but five would be a challenge, especially since I had just noticed the new ones were armed with what looked like batons. The idea of surrender wasn't gonna work for me, but the idea of fighting them all together wasn't much better. Surrender meant defeat, but these guys were legitimately scary

Then my heart sank as one of the clones retrieved a familiar-looking device. It was one of their collars. Displaying a little red light instead of the usual green, it was clear the collar was waiting for a new wearer. I shifted uncomfortably with ideas of who it was for, and I couldn't help but shiver a little.

"I'm not going anywhere!" I yelled, quivering with adrenaline. My thighs were together as fear took over, but Falcon reminded me to stay focused on my objective: escape or win.

The clones didn't need any further justification before attacking me, swinging their batons. I ducked and jumped to avoid several of them, swinging a kick to knock one away from its holder. Then I followed up with a kick to his stomach, pushing him into his allies.

An unarmed clone was approaching to my left. I blocked his punch, grabbed one by the chest of his leotard, pulled him closer to me, and dished out a punch of my own to his face.

I pushed the clone back, fast enough to turn around and see another clone about to hit me with a baton, but I grabbed the weapon, seeking to pull it from his paws. However, I was instead filled with a massive jolt of electricity, along with a tingling, somehow pleasurable sensation that filled my loins with a burst of warmth. I immediately shoved the weapon away, realising I was quickly growing aroused between my legs. I clutched my thighs together to restrain myself.

"Batons... meant to humiliate..." said the clone. I could feel what he meant.

So the clones were armed with electric pleasure-inducing weapons. This was when I realised I may not have been able to take them all on by myself.

The clones pressed their attack, batons at the ready. I did my best to avoid touching them, but as the clones crowded around me, it wasn't getting any easier. I jumped into the air to avoid some but only hit my head on the low ceiling, cracking the concrete. This location was the perfect trap. I briefly considered leaving, but the clones had blocked off my escape route. I thought of maybe crashing through the ceiling, but it would take time to break through all that concrete.

Rubbing the bump on my head, I ducked and swung my leg across the ground, hoping to trip up some clones, but they all jumped in perfect unison to avoid my attack. Their efficiency gave me pause, and I was caught off guard by the clone behind me swinging a baton down on my back. Instinctively, I span to catch the weapon instead. A violent buzzing of pleasure and pain shot through my nerves before I just barely managed to kick the clone in the stomach, knocking him back. My leotard was straining to contain me, and I felt a deep throb in my loins. I quickly shook off the effects of the batons and prepared to take on the next clone looking for a fight.

I bent my body awkwardly to avoid being hit by another baton. I grabbed the clone's wrist and squeezed tightly to weaken his grip before I tore the weapon from his paw. Then I gave him a brief tap with it, sending a powerful surge of electrical pleasure through his body. However, another clone struck me on the back with another baton, and my body seized and convulsed as the weapon unloaded its powerful charge. With barely any energy, I knocked the weapon away. Another baton hit my arm from behind. Then another clone struck me, and then another. Then I hit a climax, nerves on fire with pleasure as my muscles locked up, save for my convulsions.

"AHHHHH!" I yelled as I unloaded my warm cream impotently into my leotard, falling to my knees.

The clones watched me scream in pleasure and pain as my costume darkened with my release, keeping the batons pressed against me as the torture dragged on. They weren't taking any chances. Eventually, the ordeal was over, and the clones lifted their weapons, giving me some reprieve as I lay panting and exhausted, costume full of cum and sweat. I was defeated. I couldn't take them all on, and my body was on fire after the ordeal, nerves throbbing with the afterglow of my climax. Falcon was right. I should've called the police before I rushed into the building. If only I hadn't taken this so personally, things might've been looking better for me. But no, I made a mistake, and now I was going to pay for it with my free will.

"Obey," said the clone holding the collar, now approaching me with the little device.

Panting as I stumbled back on my butt, I fearfully tried to escape. "N-No!" I yelled. I didn't want that thing around my neck. If I could stand and try to run, I would have, but I was too weak. "Stay back! Don't put tha--"

I immediately fell silent as a clone snapped a collar shut around my neck from behind. My mind went totally silent as if someone had turned off my brain. I couldn't form a single thought, and every emotion that was once driving me vanished into oblivion. I felt nothing at all, and my expression went blank. As my body became a machine in the service of my new Master, I had learned what the collars really did.

"Return to Master with Streak..." said the clone in front of me, lazily, as he holstered the other unworn collar on the side of his belt.

Still weak, but driven with a simple-minded purpose, I somehow stood up. "Understood," I said, my voice as monotone as theirs.

The clones led me away, down a dark hallway through the decrepit basement. We came to something resembling an old elevator. The clones opened the bars around the platform and the six of us boarded. One of them pulled a lever, and I heard a loud grinding as the elevator began to descend into the ground. We were soon surrounded by layer upon layer of rock and steel beams as we went deeper down the shaft.

We travelled down for nearly a whole minute before we finally reached our destination. The elevator came to a grinding halt in what looked like an abandoned mine. As the doors opened, we stepped out, and the clones led me forward down a tunnel. Five minutes passed before our surroundings changed again. The rocky walls of the tunnel became tubular rusty metal hallways. Further down, windows started to line the corridor, looking out into a dark, murky emptiness. We were underwater, somewhere beneath Beacon Bay in an aquatic habitat.

At last, we emerged in the lair of my new Master. It was a cavernous room with large viewports looking out into the dark waters of the bay. A laboratory of some sort, levers and computers were scattered about. To the sides of the room, lined up against the walls, were rows of large tubes. At least twenty. Some had their interiors obscured with metal casings around them, but others were only glass, displaying their disturbing contents. Within were my clones in various stages of development. All clad in red and white leotards, various pipes and wires were attached to their vulnerable bodies, including bulky visors of some kind over their eyes.

"Good to see you again, fox!" said a familiar voice, not a clone. "Makes a nice change to seeing all these clones everywhere I go! I see your affinity for getting captured hasn't changed. Judging from that wet patch between your legs, it looks like you've met my new energy batons. Similar to a design Street Guard used for hers."

It was Raptor, the robo-tailed eagle. My Master. He was standing on the raised platform where the control panels and levers were, beneath the ominous darkness of the bay. Arms crossed, he wore his usual armoured silver boots and high-cut purple leotard with a black belt.

"I see you've adopted the latest fashion," he continued. His eyes were drawn to my collar as we approached him. "My new control collars look good on you. Obedience to me is hip these days, as my slaves can attest. Please, follow me."

He stepped off the raised area and headed towards the tubes. One was open, containing several metal restraints for a person my size.

"Yeah, you left us a lot of genetic material! Manasa wanted me to weaponise it. Being a technological and biological genius, how could I say no? However, I had my own ideas. She has no idea that I used your DNA to make my own army. Now, put yourself in the tube for me."

"Yes, Master," I responded, as monotone as the clones.

I obeyed, stepping into the tube and putting my limbs in the right positions. The other clones began the process of closing the restraints, one on each wrist and ankle, one around my mid-section, and another around my neck. Even my tail was bolted down. I was thoroughly bound.

"I hope you're comfortable. This facility was once used as a hideout by the F.I.N. gang, but eventually, they decided to upgrade and move out. They gave it to me as thanks for all the tech I made for them. Have you seen Bloodfin's new goggles recently? Let me tell you, the secrets this place holds... Oh, yeah, let's take care of this..."

Master reached into the tube and pressed a button on my collar, suddenly snapping it open. A rush of emotions came back to me as my mind was freed, able to form my own thoughts once again. It felt like I had just woken from a dream, confused and disoriented. But most importantly, I felt pure rage and anger.

"I'll make you suffer, Raptor!" I yelled, pulling ferociously at my restraints as if convulsing.

Raptor chuckled heartily, totally unthreatened. Instead, he reached a hand to caress up and down my bare inner thighs, sending a shiver up my spine. "Shush now. Those restraints are titanium. Now, since you don't have much choice, I'll continue my monologue. As it turns out, your powers are genetically linked to you, which was quite a surprise to me! Sadly, this means that, without the entity that's bonded with you, the clones are just not as strong as you. Thankfully, my clones were strong enough to take you down anyway."

I wasn't listening, ignoring his gentle molestations. "You killed Bernie! I'll make you pay for that!"

"Oh, the old bum?" responded the villain, raising a smug eyebrow. "He doesn't matter. No one will remember his name once I'm done with that brain of yours. You see, I like having a backup plan. There are two layers of obedience for my clones. Not only do my control collars keep them totally obedient, but I've put them through intensive brainwashing to keep them loyal to me anyway, and they'll readily put their collars back on if they get separated from them. That's what these tubes are also for. See the visors over their eyes?"

"No!" I yelled, pulling harder as I was enveloped in fear in anticipation of my impending re-education. "I won't let you!"

"Shhhh. Relax," he said, his voice changing to a gentle, reassuring tone as he continued to caress my legs. Then his hand moved to gently knead the bulge in my high-cut suit. "You're gonna love me as you've never loved anyone before! I'm gonna make you the leader of my army of clones. I'll even give your brain some nifty augmentation. Some nice tactical programming will do."

The clones finally attached a visor to my head, tying it down forcefully over my eyes. I shook my head to try and push them off, but the mechanism clung neatly to my features, perfectly designed for my proportions and those of the clones.

"Keep struggling, Streak!" insisted Falcon, filled with the same desperation I felt. If I failed, Streak would be no more. "You have to! Do not give up!"

I heard Raptor press a few buttons on the screen beside the tube and then heard the glass casing begin to close in front of me, lowering down from above.

"You're mine now, fox. You always will be. You're gonna love being my slave. Just relax and say goodbye to the superhero you used to be."

The glass closed, sealing me inside the tube. Then I felt the sensation of liquid filling the tank from below, quickly rising. In my struggles, I began to panic, overwhelmed with the natural fear of drowning. However, in the darkness within the visor, spirals of beautiful colours, constantly shifting and changing, filled my vision entirely. A sense of calm instantly fell over me as I looked at them, feeling peaceful and happy. I didn't want to look away. I wanted to stare.

"Just accept it," I heard Raptor saying, right in my ears. His voice was being sent right into my head through the ear pads of the visor. "Just let it happen. Don't struggle. You'll be mine soon. Then we're gonna take down Manasa and I'm gonna rule this world, and you'll be my pet..."

"My friend, I feel this machine suppressing me," I heard Falcon say, my mind beginning to go blank as I stared at the screen, somehow unable to close my eyes. "If he succeeds, I shall be locked away deep inside your mind, never to return. You must fight this machine or you shall, indeed, become Raptor's slave!"

As the liquid rose up my bare legs, I started to feel incredible. It seemed to pleasure every nerve, like a liquid massage. When it reached my crotch, I felt an explosion of ecstasy, instantly brought to full hardness. Then the fluid reached my mouth and poured down my throat, but I was too enthralled by the beautiful spirals to care or even gag. I began steadily breathing the aphrodisiac-filled liquid oxygen. When the tank was full and I was totally submerged, I heard the sound of something heavy moving. A metal cover moved over the tube, like the ones over some of the other tubes. Now I was plunged into darkness, with only the visor giving me any light.

"That's right. Think of me and serving me. Wet dreams, Streak."

Streak is brainwashed... (Non-Canon Ending)

I'm simply not strong enough. No matter how hard I pull, I cannot break my restraints. I'm totally helpless before my impending enslavement. The pulsating waves of pleasure flowing across my nerves beckon me to submit, to relax, and to allow myself to enjoy my enslavement.

"Fight! We can do this!" says my disembodied mentor, despairing. "Please! Don't let me down!"

"But... the colours..." I think back.

The image is beautiful, the spiralling colours a treat for my eyes. I don't even care to resist. It feels so good to stare. Everything seems so right with the world. All that matters is that spiralling. I have no idea it's rewiring my brain, turning me into a slave of the utmost obedience. I would realise it if I could think, but I can't. My mind is numb, quieted by my focus on those spirals.

"That's right, kid," I hear Raptor say in my ears. "Just let it happen. Just stare at the spirals. Let them guide you. Don't resist. It feels good to submit, doesn't it?"

"No, boy! We can do this! Resist!" urges Falcon, his voice growing ever more distant but it was too late.

I'm long gone, my mind so perfectly content to enjoy the image and the pleasure, silencing every last thought and stripping away all remnants of free will as the minutes pass. Falcon's voice fades, and soon there is only silence, Raptor's voice, and those beautiful patterns. Not only that, I inevitably climax in my dark imprisonment, releasing a cloud of my juices into the tube as my body convulses. I feel the liquid moving down through the vents below me, constantly replenished and replaced with fresh liquid.

Yes, truly this is perfect. Never have I felt so good. My arousal continues to tent my leotard as I inevitably orgasm a second time, while feelings of submission towards Raptor fill my bones. My thoughts have gone completely silent as the spirals eat away at everything I am, and yet I feel fine. Then, as I fiercely cum in a third incredible orgasm, my hips thrusting furiously in the warm liquid, I become totally at peace with my new purpose in life. My mind is focused entirely on the spirals that I love so much, and the perfect Master they represent. It just feels so good to look at those spirals.

Those spirals. Those perfect, perfect spirals. They're all that matters, even as my cream ejects into the liquid through the straining fabric of my leotard with orgasm after orgasm. Any semblance of resistance is long gone, and still, my eyes remain locked with those spirals. I lose any concept of time as they wipe away every last shred of free will and disobedience. I am submerged in pure lust for the mere idea of servitude and obedience. It drives my every thought. Life is to obey.

Then the spirals are gone. I feel the liquid draining around me, and I feel alarmed. I was born here in this tube, seeing only those spirals, and now the world around me is changing. The only world I have ever known. A minute later, the visor is removed from my head, and this slave can see for the first time in his new life. The visor has been taken by one of my fellow slaves, clad in his high-cut red and white leotard. I see my new home for the first time, and I throw up the liquid filling my insides. Before me, I instantly recognise my Master. The God that I serve, I look up at him with adoration.

"Five whole days of brainwashing! That should do the trick!" he says, arms crossed. He looks majestic and perfect, and I want nothing more than to sink to my knees and worship him.

The other slaves remove my restraints, and I get my opportunity, falling to my knees in submissiveness, but also in weakness. My entire body is frail and soft after the many days of my birth, barely able to move a muscle. I tremble, fearful and confused as the bright lights from above hurt my tired eyes. My leotard and fur are soaked, dripping with stasis fluid, but some of my cream continues to spurt into the fabric between my legs after my many, many orgasms in the tube. It feels so good to cum in front of Master.

He reaches a powerful bare arm down, grabbing my muzzle and aiming my head up at his face. "Tell me, slave. What's your purpose?" he asks, looking down at me with such brilliant smugness.

"To serve you forever and however you please, Master!" I respond without a moment of hesitation. Speaking these words fills me with the purest joy. It feels incredible to simply express my undying love for Master. "I live for this purpose, obeying your divine will!"

"Now, that's what I like to hear. The sound of victory."

•••

>Time difference: 4 years.

>This unit opens primary throne room doors.

>Proceeds towards throne. Master is seated.

>This unit now wears thick blue and black armour in the shape of a leotard and boots. Unit control module has been built into skull to maintain this unit's obedience.

>Armour genital stimulation: 100%. Time since previous orgasm: 5 minutes. This unit is perpetually aroused by Master's order. Armour cannot contain ejaculated seminal fluids. Copiously leaking from armour leg holes.

>Master speaks: "Ah, hello, my faithful slave! Come. Give me my report."

>Next orgasm imminent: 40 seconds.

>This unit speaks: "Yes, Master. 56% of country has submitted to Master's will. Other superheroes are enacting persistent resistance."

>Master speaks: "Ah, don't worry about them, slave. Everything has gone supremely well since you became my champion. The prisoners you delivered last week have adapted perfectly to their new conditioning."

>Master gestures to new arrivals. Superheroes Race, Bedrock, Serenade, and Minerva are in idle mode. Unit control modules are visible on heads.

>Master speaks: "I'm sure we'll track down Steelbadger in time. You've done good work, slave. Oh, yeah, increase orgasm intensity to 100%."

>Orgasm reached. Pleasure sensory overload. This unit falls to knees. Excessive ejaculation in progress inside armour. This unit emits instinctive verbal exclamations of pleasure.

>Master speaks: "You've come a long way. To think you used to be a dumb, horny superhero that couldn't stop blowing his load in his costume. Now you're a dumb, horny slave that can't stop blowing his load in his armour. But this is only the beginning. Thanks to you, I shall accomplish such great things."

>This unit loses consciousness.

Streak escapes! (Canon Ending)

I had been a slave once before. Twice if you count Dirtbag. I refused to be a slave again! After everything I had been through, after all the friends, family, and allies I had lost, how could I possibly give up here? How could I fail them by letting Raptor turn me into some submissive servant for his twisted goals and amusement?

Summoning every last ounce of strength I had left, I pulled against the restraints with all my might, struggling to deny the pleasure that sought to distract me. My binds didn't budge.

Bernie. Raptor killed Bernie. That scum took my best friend from me. The spirals consuming my vision couldn't make me forget that. Not yet.

I pulled harder. Harder than I ever thought I was capable of. The forced physical pleasure couldn't deter me. My muscles strained with a power I had never used before.

"Don't resist, Streak," said Raptor, sternly. I imagined his instruments were telling him that I was putting a lot of pressure on the restraints. "You're mine. Don't deny it. Just let it happen."

I wasn't listening. These restraints, as strong as they were, could not stop me. I was possessed of a strength I had yet to tap into, and as my abused muscles ached and begged me to surrender, strained beyond their natural limits, I knew I'd be leaving this facility and blowing the whistle on Raptor's operations.

"You are doing it, my friend!" praised Falcon. "You are tapping into the full power of our connection, bringing our energies closer and empowering you further."

The titanium shackles snapped, freeing each of my arms one by one. Then I tore away the restraints around my waist and neck, filled with incredible adrenaline and determination. Lastly, my ankles came free, and I was fully mobile once again. I wasted no time in removing the visor, freeing me from its enthralling gaze.

In the darkness within the tube, a blue hue was filling the confined space. It was coming from me, as swirling patterns of blue light began to burn brightly across my body, like some kind of glowing tattoos. I felt my own eyes light up within my skull, burning with an intense blue energy as my body radiated with sapphire power. With the vivid glow from the swirling patterns across my body, I could see the walls of my prison, revealing the smoky white jets of my cream shooting into the liquid with each throb of my unending orgasm. It was time for step two.

I heard Raptor continue to yell at me from the discarded visor. I pressed my spine against the back of the tube and my boots against the front. Then I started to straighten out, still filled with incredible energy. My muscles burned, and I was certain I had torn something. In fact, in a few moments, I realised how much my arms hurt. I could barely move them, but that didn't stop me. My legs still had the energy I needed to make one last push to freedom.

The metal walls started to give way, pushed outward by my powerful legs. Then, finally, the panel came loose. As the bright light of the control room bombarded my eyes, I was dragged out of the tube with the rushing liquid, landing on my stomach against the metal panel that had completely fallen away. Surrounded by torn metal and shattered glass, I quickly threw up the liquid in my lungs as I slowly recovered, body burning with an agonising fire. Unfortunately, the blue swirls across my muscles started vanishing.

"Gagh!" yelled Raptor, backing up behind his mindless minions. "Get 'im!"

"I know you are tired, boy," said Falcon, "but you need to move. Escape to fight another day."

The clones rushed at me. My body was too sore to fight, but maybe I didn't need to. All I needed to do was escape. Quickly choosing a strategy, I gathered what willpower I had left and jumped up on my aching legs, blue energy trailing behind me. I then landed nimbly behind the approaching clones. Practically without thinking, I turned and ran straight for the nearest doorway, fighting the pain in my knees. The clones were in hot pursuit.

"Don't let him escape!" yelled Raptor as I fled. "If he escapes, Manasa will know what we've been doing here!"

I ran for all I was worth through the metallic hallways, ducking and diving to avoid equipment scattered here and there. The clones were close behind, as my legs weren't strong enough to keep me moving at my top speed. When another clone appeared in front of me, I turned to take another route, hoping I could still find another way to the exit.

I needed a place to hide and rest. My legs were burning. I ducked around a corner and out of view. Maybe the clones wouldn't catch on and they'd keep sprinting down the corridor. In the second after I ducked around the corner, I noticed a large open hatchway to another room. On instinct, I jumped inside, closing the entry hatch behind me and turned the wheel, hopefully locking it, before examining my new surroundings any further. I found myself in a circular chamber with another hatch in the floor.

"Maybe one of those diving hatches?" I wondered out loud as I caught my breath and examined the hatch in the centre of the room.

"That would be my best guess," said Falcon, before we noticed the words painted on the side of the hatch saying 'Warning: Do not open'. That was concerning. "But it may be our best chance of escape," continued my mentor. "Now it is time to take the plunge."

"Was... Was that a pun...?"

"With haste!"

I didn't hesitate a second longer. I took a deep breath, grabbed the large wheel, turned it with my aching arms, and pulled it open. It was definitely a moon pool. There was water on the other side of the hatch, but also a mass of thick, writhing tentacles belonging to a variety of small, octopus-like creatures. One of the many creatures, propelled by some unnatural mobility, leapt up in the direction of my face.

I wasn't escaping yet. This night had only just begun.

To be continued...