FSE

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META

Evolution is often thought of as a forward process, carrying past successes on to future strengths. It is easy to see the evolutionary steps in a species, organization or technology that made it, but the sea of failures is far vaster. Often there are times when something has reached an evolutionary dead end for a good reason, but what if it was given what nature never affords - a second chance?

Chapter 1-02 (Re-evolution)

The heat wave that had ensnared Trinity had finally broken, returning the city back to its typical cool oceanic weather. A dull white fog rolled through the city, filling the streets like white misty canals. The automated buses navigated through the fog seamlessly, the mist spilling over their rounded edges, their headlights sending out a faint glow into the cloud of moisture. While the sun had risen on the eastern horizon, it could not penetrate the forest of sky scrapers that dominated East End. The urban sprawl was dense and some areas didn't get direct sunlight until noon... though for some citizens, it sometimes felt as if the sun never shone.

While South End was known for its parks, East End had a few nestled in the city. Even the largest were no more than a city block or two, but that tiny amount of green was an oasis from the cement and steel jungle that spread outwards in every direction for miles. For Mark Nikolay, it had turned out to be a quiet place to sleep for the night. The eighteen year old was curled up on a park bench, his wavy brown-blonde hair cascading over his face. His feet were covered with well worn shoes and torn up denim jeans hugged is legs, but the most distinctive feature of his wardrobe was the old army jacket he wore.

The olive drab green jacket had seen far more action than Mark had, boasting patches for tours of duty and wars he hadn't even been alive to witness, but there wasn't anything more important in the world to Mark than the jacket. It was a symbol of everything he valued in life... and it had kept him alive when times were tough. Sadly, it was also something that drew attention from the less reputable.

A soft thud came near by as unusual bare feet landed on the grass. They were large, likely size fifteen or sixteen if they could have been crammed into a shoe, but instead of toenails the feet ended in dark brown claws. The foot rested strangely, as if part of the soles had tried to swell into paw pads but had only made it half way. Such was the lot in life of an omega member of the wolf pack, but even as an Omega, the gang member was quite impressive.

The twenty year old was a recent convert, but already the retrovirus had augmented his system. He was six feet and two inches tall with two hundred and fifty pounds of muscle. His black hair stood up almost into spikes on its own and thick, fuzzy mutton chops ran down his cheeks almost all the way to his chin. His ears were pointed and so were his canine teeth, his lips parted to make room for them. The gang member's yellow eyes looked Mark over as he licked his lips, reaching down to rub at his groin. He whimpered, the bulge painfully erect, his knot fully formed. He wanted to mate so bad, but he also wanted to live up to the gang's expectations.

The gang member crept forward, panting softly, his hips swaying. If he had a tail he would have been wagging it. Inch by inch he approached Mark, ready to pounce. He lifted his clawed hand and reached to grab Mark and flip him onto his stomach, but as he reached, Mark rolled onto his back. The gang member only had a moment to see the small red canister in his hand before it went off. The noxious red gas came spewing out of the can and hit him in the face. The gang member yelped and whimpered in pain, running off as his eyes and mouth watered, panting and drooling before he lunged over the brick wall at the edge of the park. Mark sighed.

"Dogs in heat... Can't a guy get any peace?" Mark murmured before he stood up and began walking, trying to figure out how to spend his day. The schools were closed for the weekend, the library wasn't open and the vampire gangs had robbed a shipment of Cellucore's dermal regeneration gel intended for the hospital, meaning they were going to make some strikes during the day. It was time to lay low... which for Mark meant navigating past the gangs to get to the lower levels of the city and explore. Mark gave his jacket a tug to secure it over his shoulders before he headed out of the park and down the street, starting his day.

****

The doors to the hospital rumbled open as a man moved out. His shoulders were a bit hunched and he shuffled his feet as he walked, but the smile on his face was quite distinct as he laboriously moved down the front steps. A slight breeze blew through the long gray Fu Manchu he had, the three groups of hair making him look almost like an eastern dragon. A slight hum came as a non-distinct sedan pulled up in front of the hospital and the man moved to climb in, reaching to hold his hat in place as he moved to sit, though behind him there was already sign that something had happened.

In the windows of the hospital, nurses and doctors were running around from room to room in shock, overwhelmed by what was happening. Every patient in the ICU and ER had miraculously recovered and there was not a single explanation any of them could yet identify. As the man with the Fu Manchu sat down in the car, he pulled the door shut and signaled for the driver to go.

Slater smirked, bringing the car back into the flow of traffic, headed for a parking garage on the North Island that had no cameras. When they had gotten far enough away from the hospital, Gideon reached up to slowly peel the fake beard from his skin, though the glue clung to the stubble he actually had. He winced a bit before the costume hair came free and he slid it back into its plastic bag.

"How did it go?" Slater asked eagerly. Gideon chuckled, leaning back into the chair with an enormous sense of exhaustion.

"I'm getting better at it, though it still drains me. The hardest part was getting around the cameras and the medical staff, but I think I'm getting better at that too." Gideon smirked.

"How long do you think it'll take them?" Slater asked. Gideon thought about how the hospital would react as he reached up, tapping the underside of the plugs in his ears. They shimmered, changing from flesh tone to a turquoise color.

"Two and a half hours... They'll be so busy documenting everything and discharging everyone that no one will have time to do anything else until at least that long, but that's about how long it'll take them to realize they have security tapes. Once they see the kindly old Asian man, they'll probably put him on the news." Gideon smirked.

"It's kind of a shame you can't use that costume again, it's hot." Slater said. Gideon raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"Old Asian man?" Gideon asked.

"Well, you're just as much Asian as you are Latin. I like imagining what you'll look like when we're older, the hot stud that'll fuck me raw." Slater moaned.

"Easy there, keep your mind on the road and the car out of the gutter." Gideon said.

"Shouldn't that be the other way around?" Slater asked. Gideon blushed.

"Sorry, I was thinking about fucking you raw..." He admitted. Slater chuckled at that loudly as they moved onto the bridge to North End.

****

After navigating the maze of city streets, Mark had reached one of the tunnel entrances to the utility levels as the morning fog started to burn off. The tunnel started with a big square cut out of the ground, one side angling downwards at a shallow angle, the far side of the square starting the tunnel ceiling once there was enough clearance. The light dropped down thirty or forty feet, but beyond that it was a lair eternally devoid of any illumination but the dull orange glow of the square utility lights installed at even intervals along the walls.

Mark took the sight in before he resumed walking, heading down the ramp and into the world of the night. He'd traveled down hundreds of utility tunnels in his life, but their aesthetic remained compelling to him. Everything was bathed in orange light, including the zig-zag metal mesh that created floor to ceiling triangle patterns on the walls and strips across the ground every fifty feet. Tucked away behind the mesh was an army of pumps, hydraulic motors, emergency bulkheads, electrical conduits and every other system the city needed for both day to day operation and to deal with catastrophic flooding.

Still, like many cities, the tunnels had seen a bit of decay in the decades since the city was built. Graffiti tags covered some of the walls and most of the ceiling, a mural snaking its way down the tunnel with fluid curves in contrast to the harsh angles of the panels. Near the entrance of the tunnel, several of the mesh panels had been pulled out, exposing the thick pipes and water proof motors behind, but more importantly making nooks and crannies for those that craved dark places to hide.

As Mark moved down the tunnel, he saw just such individuals. A nineteen year old was leaned up against one of the alcove walls with one man on either side of him, their fangs dug into his neck. The man in the middle moaned softly as his upper canine teeth slowly extended into fangs while those feeding on him eagerly sucked and slurped the blood from his veins. One was no more than a teenager, but the other seemed to be in his late twenties with a smooth shaved head and a long braided black goatee.

As Mark passed, the 'victim' looked out at him in shock that he'd been caught. The vampires, however, peered up from where they were sucking away, wondering if Mark was a threat to be dealt with. Mark made a hand gesture that looked like he was 'throwing up the horns' before he turned it upside down, making the fang gesture of the allies of the gang. The vampires grinned a bit before they went back to their work, savoring the rich iron blood of the newest member of their gang. Mark continued down the tunnel, rolling his eyes once he had turned away from them.

While he had briefly considered joining either of the rival gangs in Trinity, Mark just didn't like the feel of it. He'd always been a solitary sort and if he was going to be in a group, he was going to be the leader. There wasn't much room in the Pack or Crimson Spire for upward advancement, not with a vampire lord and alpha wolf sitting on the throne... so Mark was content to wander alone, to explore the secrets the city had to offer. While everyone else was so busy exploring the future, Mark happily explored the past.

With the vampires behind him, Mark continued deeper and deeper into the city's lower levels. Signs of the outside world faded but by bit. All of the mesh panels were intact and taggers hadn't defaced the tunnel at a depth few would ever see. Mark was deep enough to be treading where only automated machines visited. After several more minutes of walking, the tunnel opened up into a small underground intersection. A rectangular light was suspended from the ceiling, showing a green light for Mark while the other sides were yellow to caution that someone was on the path. Mark looked at the tunnels before him, trying to decide which way to go before he spotted something he hadn't expected to see - a barrier down one of the tunnels.

A surge of glee passed through Mark. The tunnels were left open to give the security forces fast access to all parts of the city, closed barriers were almost unheard of. Mark darted down the tunnel to the left, though the incline was at a steeper angle than he was used to. His eyes locked onto the metal barrier that cut off the tunnel to everything beyond, the Department of Defense seal emblazoned on the bulkhead above the stern warning that everything beyond was condemned, quarantined, and highly unsafe. To Mark, it was an advertisement of all the abandoned wonders the military had left behind.

Mark crouched down off to one side of the bulkhead, his fingers groping the wall to find the access panel. His fingers soon found the hidden seam and the youth reached into his pocket, withdrawing a small kit of picks and knives. After years of practice, he managed to get the complex cover off, revealing the water proof terminal inside... his grin slowly growing to engulf his entire face. It was a top level security panel, and much to Mark's fortune, it no longer had power. He ran his fingers over the plastic buttons and the archaic USB 4.1 port before he reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a metal case before opening it up reverently.

It had taken him two years to find a military issue portable power drive and another year to obtain the software to load onto it, but his fascination with history had never failed him. One of his only memories of his father had been going to the Trinity museum and learning about the city. Even at the age of six, Max had always wondered if Trinity was made by the military to experiment, why none of the companies that purchased the city had carried on their old work. Instead it had all been locked away.

Mark looked at the drive in his hand and then back at the terminal before him. He'd found a few military supply closets before, one with the jacket he now wore, but he'd never discovered a DoD secured facility. The possibilities were mind boggling. He was so excited that his hands trembled as he slipped the drive into the slot. Power fed out of the drive into the terminal and the plastic buttons snapped back on for the first time in forty years. The custom software was loaded and Mark watched the code flash on the buttons. He reached into the open terminal box and entered the code just as he had seen it.

For a moment nothing happened, but then a dull groaning of metal came before the bulkhead began to lurch upwards, the hydraulic motors pulling power from the drive itself. It was a gravity lock and without power it slid shut to secure the contents. The only reason it didn't have power was that the interior generator had been shut down when the military abandoned the city. If he could get in and turn it on, he would have free access, but if not... there was a chance he could be trapped in there forever. Mark knew it was a gamble, but the adventure far outweighed the risk.

Mark waited for the door to rise all the way up before he looked down the tunnel, surprised that the utility lights in the facility were green instead of orange. With one last breath to steel his resolve, Mark pulled the drive out of the socket. The door started to slide shut once more but Mark ducked under it and stepped into the tunnel, watching the door seal itself behind him. The sound of the door shutting echoed down the tunnel into the facility beyond. Mark took the stillness in and then started walking, eager to find out what adventure awaited him.

****

Gideon murmured softly as he woke up, yawning a bit. He lifted his wrist and glanced at his watch. He had been asleep for six hours. Healing still took more power than anything, but it was well worth it. He slowly sat up on the couch and glanced over to where he knew Slater would be, though it was always a surprise what he did during Gideon's recovery time.

Slater sat cross legged on the floor with a dismantled computer monitor off to one side, the razor thin screen missing two very distinctive ovals. The ovals had been cut out and Slater was very carefully using tweezers to lay the pieces of screen out onto clear adhesive inside of Gideon's goggles. With the material in place, Slater set the goggles aside and moved back to the computer where code was compiling.

"What are you up to?" Gideon asked with a chuckle. Slater grinned and stood up, bounding over to straddle Gideon on the cough.

"You're up! And I'm improving your suit." Slater said, caressing Gideon's cheek.

"So you're still okay with the whole super hero thing even after the Genetech thing?" Gideon asked. Slater nodded gently.

"Yeah, even though it scares me, it lets you bring light to other people's lives like you bring to mine... but I can still try to make you as safe as possible. This way I can transmit maps, text messages and other stuff right to your field of vision. I also put in fractal encryption so no one can hack into our signal." Slater said.

"You know, you make a pretty good gear head." Gideon smirked.

"Well, at the end of the day it's an excuse to play dress up with you." Slater said, running his hand down Gideon's chest.

"Well, how about you and I play a little before your appointment?" Gideon asked.

"Can we cancel the appointment and play longer?" Slater asked.

"I don't think Doctor Forest would like that." Gideon said. Slater rolled his eyes.

"He wouldn't but I sure would... but okay. A little play and then my appointment." Slater said, giving in as he moved to pin Gideon to the couch and nuzzle his neck. Gideon moaned, clinging to his lover.

****

For forty years the DoD base had been abandoned, but with a slight amount of tinkering, Mark had managed to bring life back to the facility. Power flowed through the conduits like veins and systems were coming back online, though for Mark it had been the perfect opportunity to raid supply closets. The door to an old office rumbled open as Mark moved in, his arms loaded down with several MRE ration packs. He slumped into an old office chair, the two blank sets of dog tags jangling around his neck before he lifted his feet up and put them on the desk, both clad in over-sized army boots.

Mark had never felt as comfortable as he had in the base, but for the first time since his parents were alive he felt safe. No one knew where he was, the place was his and it was working. The question at hand was whether or not he could survive there. He set the MRE's down onto the table before sliding one down in front of him. He slid a cover back and pressed a small switch inside the casing. The kit began to heat itself up, preparing the food inside. Mark slowly scooted back just in case the pack ignited or exploded after years of disuse, though the foil on the top changed from silver to blue, indicating the food was done.

With a cautious hesitation, Mark detached the foil cover from the kit to reveal the Salisbury steak, instant mashed potatoes and moist green peas inside... or at least what resembled those foods. Mark leaned in and sniffed. Despite being so heavily processed as to avoid decay, they smelled pretty good. Mark pulled out the spork from the case wall and started to dig in, savoring the creamy textureless potatoes as he moved around the office, getting a feel for it. It certainly didn't taste tainted or spoiled, and if he was as lucky with all the rations, there would be no reason to leave for anything besides school.

Feeling ever more at ease, Mark leaned back in his chair, though as he did, the desk table top slipped just a bit. Mark nearly dropped his ration pack in fear he was going to fall over, but the table top stopped and there was a faint click somewhere behind him. Mark hesitated before he pulled his legs off the desk and set his ration pack down. Looking around, he tried to right the top of the desk again and once more there was a click behind him. Mark glanced over his shoulder and started moving the tabletop back and forth. Every time it changed positions, the corner of the wall had a faint click.

Mark stood up and moved over to the wall, tracing his fingers along the edge where the two walls came together. It seemed fairly solid, but it was still hard to tell. He pushed against the walls, then he tried to push them in different directions. When nothing happened, he returned to the desk and moved the table top off kilter by a half of an inch until he heard the click again. Returning to the back wall, Mark put one hand on and then the other and started to push. The entire wall, cupboards and all, started to slide to the right, revealing a widening crack to a room beyond. Mark curled his fingers around the edge and pushed harder until the wall shuddered to a stop at four feet wide.

Intrigued by even the mechanism itself, Mark moved to study the inner edge of the sliding wall. There were numerous metal teeth that locked into place when the top of the desk was in its default position. Mark ran his finger over some of the metal, finding the deteriorated remnants of a lubricant. Back in the twenties the door was quite likely silent when switching states. Mark felt incredibly lucky, but he still had no idea what he had uncovered.

The young man ran a finger through his wavy blonde hair before he passed through the narrow door into a much more cavernous room. Sensing motion for the first time in forty years, the lights snapped on, the old compressed gas tubes taking a moment to warm up. The shadows slunk away from the contents of the room, but the contents left in their wake were just as mysterious. Mark looked around, his eyes widening in surprise.

The room was full of equipment of countless varieties and shapes. Four strange contraptions sat suspended slightly above the floor, looking almost like hammock frames stretched over with a drab green leathery latex looking material. Pnumatic tubes dropped down along the back wall, set at even intervals between plastic and polymer molding equipment. The right wall was covered with cubby holes inside which were a variety of exotic and unique gas masks, and the left wall was one large screen.

Mark didn't know where to start, it was so amazing. Between the molding equipment, sheets of material and gas masks, he assumed it was a lab or manufacturing room for a new kind of biohazard suit. He moved over to the wall, running his hand over the variety of gas masks before he pulled the first one out of its slot. The material was oddly stretchy, black and dark. There were two polarized circular lenses and the mouth piece seemed quite complex with a vertical oval inside of which was a circle and several slits radiating outward below the circle. The way the mouth piece extended away from the face, it was almost like a blunted muzzle like that of a raccoon.

Knowing there was no immediate threat of biological attack, Mark tucked the mask under his arm as a souvineer like the dog tags and boots as he walked over to the computer. He looked at the thickness of the glass and the frame around it before he reached out to touch it. The screen flickered and an engineering map of Trinity appeared, a spinning Department of Defense emblem centered on the map between the three islands.

"Shadow System recovery underway. Warning, procurement network severely compromised. Attempting to reroute." A soft male voice said. Orange lines started to appear throughout the map, though the utility tunnels between the three islands illuminated as either blue or green and several green spots started to appear around the three islands.

"Computer, access Shadow System info file." Mark said softly, hoping it would work.

"Security clearance required. Warning: central memory storage unit has been removed. Expanding search. Warning: All memory storage units on base removed. Switching to Shadow System internal memory for future use." The voice replied. Mark grimaced, knowing the military must have pulled out anything that could have possibly incriminated them. The computer chirped after a moment, "Officer found."

"Where?" Mark asked.

"Shadow System control room. Rank: Brigadier General. Identity unknown." The computer replied. Mark's eyes widened before he looked down at himself. He was wearing dog tags, military boots, a military jacket and he had a gas mask.

"Identity... General Mark Nikolay..." Mark said slowly, looking down at the gas mask beneath his arm before he grinned, "Agent Mask." He added.

"System updated. Are you the commander of this facility?" the computer asked.

"I am the officer appointed with the recovery effort. The facility has been abandoned and lost for many years, but I am to investigate and get it functioning again." Mark replied.

"System updated. Security clearance granted. Do you still wish to access the Shadow System info file?" the computer asked.

"Yes." Mark said eagerly.

"The Shadow System is an autonomous relay network built into the foundation of the Trinity Megacomplex. It has the ability to access numerous military projects to draw on resources automatically for efficient manufacture, construction, or design of military hardware and software. With adaptive algorithms, the system will constantly grow more efficient and solve problems automatically." The system stated.

"So... if I wanted to make more gas masks, I would choose the design profile and activate the shadow system?" Mark asked.

"Yes, however the Shadow System procurement network is severely compromised. Eighty six percent of registered resource pools are missing. New resource pools have been detected. Attempting to connect to resource pools. Update will take four hours." The computer said. Side windows appeared, listing an insanely long list of every resource in Trinity, starting with the largest concentrations. Trinitron, Genetech and Cellucore each flashed brightly with yellow light as the system attempted to learn how to connect to them and obtain their resources, but even the smaller, independent Polarity Labs was on the list.

Mark was impressed to say the least, though the great power afforded him gave him little idea where to start. The possibilities were almost too endless. If he could turn the entire city into one big factory working for him, the question became what to make. Mark was actually glad he had four hours of updates to go through. It would give him time to think and learn all he could.

****

A soft warm glow filled the office of Emile Forest as he had his evening session with Slater. Given the odd hours of city life in Trinity, it paid to have later hours than most psychologists and the clients truly didn't seem to mind. Emile stood at a small cart, fixing a fresh batch of tea while Slater recovered from the drugs that had put him into a hypnotic trance. Emile faced away from Slater, trying to hide the erection he had gotten listening to Slater's descriptions of his sex life. He had always been such a good client to get sexy stories from, though recently he had started to become more cryptic.

Emile turned to sit down at his desk again, swapping out the drug laced tea for the chamomile, watching Slater come back to his senses. Emile wondered if Slater was starting to get immune to the mix. Few could resist the power of his special concoctions, but there was something Slater wasn't telling him. Still, Emile knew he could get to it the old fashioned way. He looked up, waiting until Slater seemed coherent enough to continue.

"You were telling me how your vacation went?" Emile asked. Slater blinked before blushing a bit.

"Oh, yes, sorry, I guess my mind wandered." He said, lifting his tea, sipping on it, assuming it was the same tea he had sipped moments before. Slater considered his response before speaking, "I'd say its wonderful... We had a lot of time to spend together, we developed a deeper connection, it was romantic. But I took your advice, I embraced new things, we're getting out more." Slater said. Emile grinned.

"That's wonderful Slater, I'm so proud of you! What sort of new things have happened?" Emile asked. Slater smiled a bit, masking his nervousness.

"Well, we went on a couple picnics around on the different islands, went places we haven't been before, but I'm really lucky because it isn't over yet." Slater said. Emile's eyebrow rose.

"Oh? More vacation time?" he asked. Slater shrugged.

"Well, yes and no. You know all those people and animals that just got all better on the news? Gideon's work decided to give him a week off with pay since they don't have enough patients to warrant him coming in, but all the ones they had already paid up." Slater said. Emile nodded gently.

"That is a most curious situation, but one I'm glad you two can benefit from." Emile said. Slater nodded.

"I really think the time together is helping our relationship to evolve." Slater said. Emile nodded gently, imagining the behind-the-couch sex Slater had described after Gideon had come back home from working.

"Well, I think that about covers this session... I'm sure Gideon and you could enjoy getting out on a night like this. Go, enjoy, have fun." Emile said softly.

"Really? Well, thanks doc! See you next time." Slater said, springing to his feet before moving out of the office. Emile waited for the door to close before he pressed the button on his intercom.

"Hold my calls." Emile said before turning the com off, rolling his office chair back. He unbuttoned and unzipped his pants before he opened the top drawer of his desk, pulling out a pump bottle. He got a bit squirt of aloe scented lube onto his head before he slathered it over his manhood, rubbing it up and down, imagining that he was fucking Slater's ass, that Slater was calling his name. Emile let his mind wander, thinking of his other sexy patients, then sexy men in general, masturbating furiously. Each stroke of his hand made a wet squelching noise, but it was so naughty and so good. Even as Emile tried to make it last, he couldn't. Before long he was moaning, his thick semen spraying up through the coating of aloe lube, staining his slacks. Emile cursed gently before he went limp in his chair, moaning in delight.

****

The Shadow System had made some progress in connecting to new collections of resources, though the resources it desired most were still out of reach, catalogued for the time being. Mark had started reading through random files, trying to put together a list of what had happened in the base, what its purpose had been. Still, as the minutes became hours, he moved over to sit down on the bench, carrying the gas mask with him. As he settled onto a chair in the corner, his fingers traced over a slight depression inside the mask. Mark turned it over and smiled a bit, finding a clue he had missed. Imprinted inside of the material was a serial number, GP-60 MK6.

"Computer, open the info file on GP-60." Mark called out, deciding to pass the time. The computer lurched gently.

"Request invalid." The computer responded.

"Reason?" Mark asked.

"There are nine hundred and eight encrypted files on the GP-60 project in the Shadow System." The computer replied. Mark grimaced at the bureaucracy of it all before he paused, wondering if the project was for more than just gas masks.

"Is there a primer for the GP-60 project?" Mark asked.

"File is classified. Enter security clearance."

"Voice print. Agent Mask, General Mark Nikolay." Mark said hopefully. The computer struggled for a moment with incomplete code and a lack of memory before it logically concluded that was sufficient information.

"Accessing." The computer said before bringing up the files, "United States Department of Defense, General Proxy super soldier experiments. Attempt sixty. While previous attempts to make a super soldier met with varied success, attempt sixty provided the DoD with the first fully scalable arsenal of super soldiers. The GP-60 formula is a cocktail of performance enhancing chemicals. The formula is divided into six concentrations to produce a variety of super soldiers ranging from drone to enhanced military commander, delivered in a constant feed via a self contained atmosphere." The computer explained. Mark looked back at the gas mask, a self contained atmosphere.

"Which is mark six?" Mark asked.

"Enhanced military commander." Mark murmured, looking down at the mask before him. It wasn't a tool to protect the wearer from the outside after all, it was something to turn a soldier into a super soldier, in this case a military commander. Mark leaned back in the chair, thinking of all the times he had been bullied or threatened, all the times he'd had to strategize his movements to reduce the risk of danger. Mark felt a nagging, gnawing desire in his body to be better... and the mask in his hands held the way. Mark slowly lifted the mask up, trying to see if there were any slots for straps to connect, trying to figure out how it stayed on. He brought it up to his face, feeling the material press around his face like a sponge... and then came the suction.

The air pressure changed in the mask drastically as it adhered to Mark's face. He struggled suddenly, clutching at the mask with both hands to pull it off. Not only could he not breathe, but the mask had drawn out almost all of the air from his own lungs. He pulled and yanked, but as Mark struggled, slots opened up on the mask and rubbery straps shot out, wrapping around his head. As the straps hit each other, they melted together and fused together, creating a web around his head.

Mark gazed out of the darkened lenses in terror, springing up to his feet. He was unable to remove the mask or to breathe, but as his lungs craved air, the mask began to release a moist, pungent scent. The smell was strange and artificial, complex and odd. There was a hint of oldness to it, almost like gym socks, but most of the smell was acrid like freshly made latex. Mark gasped at the gas, unable to stop himself as he tried not to suffocate, but as he breathed it in, his lungs already started to tingle. The gas was transferred from his lungs to his blood and it started to circulate through his body at once.

As Mark used all his strength to try and get the mask off, those very muscles started to grow stronger. His biceps and triceps defined, pushing out against the sleeve of his shirt. His chest thickened and his abdominal muscles started to define. His pale, smooth stomach became rippled with abs and his pectorals pushed out. Even his shoulder muscles thickened, allowing him to fill out his jacket better. Soon Mark's forearms grew thicker with muscle and his hands seemed to thicken a bit.

The fear was mixing with adrenaline, making Mark feel fantastic. Testorone surged I his body like never before. Even his legs thickened with muscle, his skin toning all over... but muscles were far from the only changes. The chemicals were building up in his system, starting to trigger deeper, more profound changes. The marrow in his bones tingled, his arms and les starting to stretch again for the first time in years. Mark grunted into the mask, though his voice sounded deeper, dropping almost an octave.

Aching, throbbing pain ripped through Mark as his bones grew at an astonishing rate. His legs stretched, his arms thickened, his shoulders pushed outward. Even his ribs grew wider, pushing apart before his vertebrae enlarged. Mark slammed a hand against the wall for support, his center of balance thrown off as he grew so much so fast. Soon his pants were ill fitting and the baggy military jacket he always wore was fitting perfectly, at least for a few moments. Before long it was starting to get a little tight.

Mark wanted to be afraid of what was happening, but with every breathe he felt more calm, happier about what was going on, knowing it was simply right. There was no place for fear in his life. He lifted his hands, looking at them through the lenses of his gas mask. Tiny hairs grew out of his knuckles, much like his father had. The hair on his arms got a little thicker too, creeping down onto the back of his hand... It was a sign of maturity, of testosterone, but his maturity every where else came at a price, one that was amplified by the serum.

At first it felt like a light snow falling across his shoulders, but soon Mark realized his hair was falling out. The locks of blonde slipped away from his scalp, but Mark didn't care. The gas made him feel like everything was right, that it was supposed to happen. He reached up to brush it away, revealing a perfect, sexily smooth scalp. The paleness ebbed away as the melanin in his skin took on a healthy tone. It was almost as if he'd always gone bald. The rubber straps tightened around his skull, though the seams of the black mask seemed to blend into his face, fusing on a more permanent basis.

Mark looked around slowly, still feeling himself changing, wondering what was next... but sensing that a GP-60 mask had been activated, one of the beds whirred to life, rising from the floor. Sheets of the drab olive green material rose with it, ready to be folded over and used, ready for the next phase. Mark grinned inside the mask, knowing what to do next. He slipped off his jacket and draped it over the chair before he grabbed his tight shirt with both hands, tearing it apart. Thick, beefy round pecs emerged, his nipples as hard as diamonds. He reached for his pants next, though the button flew off of them with the slightest touch and Mark decided to merely tear the pants apart. The scraps fell to the floor, followed soon after by the underwear that had been beneath.

The changing super soldier stood in front of the bed mechanism wearing nothing but a gas mask and boots, though he could feel his feet growing inside them. His toes stretched, his arch grew and his heel widened. His ankle engorged, the boot growing tight after being several sizes too big. Still, there was something about the material of the boot that made Mark feel it was okay. He moved over to the bed and sat down at the edge, putting his large hands on the frame before he pulled himself up all the way on it, laying back.

After years of waiting, the bed finally had an occupant. It was ready to get to work. Another large frame lifted out of the floor, rotating and coming down over Mark. The leathery latex was stretched across his entire body as the frames came down, stretching tight over his entire body from head to toe. The frames locked together and a positive seal was made before the air started getting pumped out of the enclosure. The vacuum seal pulled the material tight across Mark's naked body, form fitting him perfectly.

It was a strange, exhilarating experience to be in the vac bed. The covering blocked all vision from him and he could only breathe because of the gas mask. His entire body was immobilized, held in place, but he could feel everything ten times stronger. His erection raged in protest of the confines, a clear cock visible through the green material. As the last of the air was drawn out, a slight electric charge was applied to the sheets of material. Mark twitched, but the material did far more than that.

The parts of the material not touching Mark turned to liquid at once, dripping down into drains on the floor, but the material coating his body seemed to turn from liquid back into a solid, clinging to him quite completely. The tops of his boots sizzled as the olive material melted to it, sealing them off tight. The material also was unable to stick to his gas mask and rolled off like water on wax paper. The mask straps were also immune, giving the goo nothing to stick to until there was enough tension around his neck.

Slowly the material hardened again into a thick stretchy leather body suit from neck to boot. Another slot in the floor opened up and reticulation arms rose, each one ending in a laser. Green light burst out, dancing across Mark's body, etching the uniform. A single star was added to the top of each shoulder, indicating his rank as a Brigadier General. The lasers continued to move, though at first their pattern seemed random. Patches appeared and disappeared across his body suit as they were etched until finally the reticulation arms retracted. The pattern appeared as digital camoflauge across his body for an instant before it returned to drab olive green again.

As all the pieces tucked away, the bed inclined until Mark was able to step off onto the floor, standing upright... but he wasn't quite Mark anymore. His thoughts were reorganizing in his head, his life flashing before his eyes. All fear was erased, all doubt was expunged. He was certain, focused and brave. Mark turned to face the computer, his body suit perfectly contouring as he turned. His eyes gazed out through the dark lenses of his mask, looking to the map of Trinity on the screen. Never before had he realized how far astray it had gone, never had he thought about how much the city needed a leader, an organizer, a ruler... but before he could rule, he needed a plan and an army.

"Status on GP-60 masks." Mark called out, though his voice was intimidatingly deep, almost inhumanly deep.

"Updating voice print." The computer said, "Status: Mark one masks, depleted. Mark two masks, eighty percent depleted. Mark three masks, ninety percent depleted. Mark four masks, depleted. Mark five masks, depleted. Mark six masks, depleted." The computer responded. Mark turned to face the rack of masks, examining them carefully. There were ten of each mask other than the one he had grabbed, meaning he had three active masks to use. It was a start, but it wasn't nearly enough.

"Begin production of the GP-60 formula and prepare to recharge the masks. I have some recruiting to do." Mark said. While he was grinning inside his mask, the exterior remained cold and emotionless, a super soldier serving no one but himself.

****

While the city of Trinity was advanced, robust and constantly progressing toward an even more impressive future, there were still a few parts of the city that had fallen into disuse. Few regions had deteriorated more than the small industrial block of East End. During the city's construction, a 'base camp' of factories near the cargo docks had been necessary to assemble equipment and tools needed to build the rest, but as soon as North End had been completed, the entire neighborhood became redundant. The factories had been abandoned, the warehouses left empty and the decades passed.

A few of the buildings had become home to the werewolf packs, but the largest had been claimed by a very different kind of beast. On the surface the factory appeared to be a wide, single story warehouse... but that was by design. A slab of metal with letters cut out of it hung over the wide double doors, proclaiming the building as "Sado's S&M Madhouse," though the locals knew it might as well stand for the madhouse of sex and man. It was common knowledge that every perversion known to gay man went on there, but few could truly understand the depths of it without seeing inside.

As part of its ruse, the ground level windows looked out across absolutely nothing. A twelve foot wide cement walkway hugged the outer walls, guarding a pit in the middle. Ramps ran down from the doors to the recessed pit which might as well have been built on the attic of hell. Massive pipes and columns jutted up from the floor to the ceiling high above and countless smaller pipes ran horizontally between the others, creating a vast canopy of metal works. The little light that made it through the upper windows fell in tiny strips across the vast cement floor, covered in an inch deep of faintly yellow liquid. It was here that Sado had set up his den of sin.

The north end of the building looked as if a leather spider had built a vast web. Straps wrapped around metal pipes, zigging and zagging, connecting disparate sections... and caught in the web were several naked individuals, writhing more in pleasure than in terror. Some wore leather harnesses, others leather collars. Their bare flesh was raw in places, but they didn't care. To them, pain was pleasure and the two had been mixed liberally. The only lasting pain they felt was how long it would take for their master to return to them.

Further through the building, others were dressed in latex and spandex soaked through by any number of various fluids, catching their breath from another near drowning session. They were thoroughly spent, sexually satisfied, and already craving another round. Off near the south corner, a slightly raised platform kept several motorcycles out of the thin lake of fluid covering the floor. Leather clad, bearded men worked on the hogs, repairing the engines and fitting them out with newly revamped pieces. Their leather hugged their bodies like a second skin, showing off every muscle, every contour, ever bit of masculinity... and Sado looked over it all with a great sense of satisfaction.

Sado stood six feet and seven inches tall, a hulking behemoth of a man. His skin was a rich and creamy sandy brown and his hair was as black as a panther. The hair was shorn short across his scull, all save for a crest in the front, but his beard was thick, bushy and wild. It dropped down a full foot from his chin and only his thick, juicy lips escaped it. Heavy gold earrings hung from his ears and an even heavier set hung from the thick chocolate covered nipples on his hairy chest, accentuated by the dark Maori tattoo covering his left shoulder and pectoral and the black leather kilt he wore, the faint rounded edge of his manhood tracing along the lower edge of the material.

Sado Arada had always been a very lucky man. His father had been one of the last oil barons and his mother had been Dubai royalty. He inherited both money and fantastic genetics. He had grown his first mustache at the age of eleven and had outstripped all the other males for height for the rest of his education. His forays into debauchery had started in high school when he had become the first male pimp in the school's history. His list of clients grew and all rivals shrank away. His family had moved to Trinity to take advantage of the economy, but he had taken advantage of the locals. Finding a niche of sexually repressed men wanting an avenue of escape, Sado had built his empire brick by brick until he had cornered the market on the dangerous and weird. He even had made a deal with the werewolves and vampires for complete immunity. It had been a lot of work, something Sado never took for granted.

Normally Sado would have rotated through all the stations of his Madhouse, attending to all the individual tastes of his clients, but something felt off to him. There was something going on. He had moved to a neutral point to oversee the building. At first he saw nothing, but then he realized that was not the sense to use. Something SOUNDED off. Sado moved back across the madhouse floor, passing the moaning and whimpering clients begging for his attention, but his mind was on his task. He reached out his broad hand to rest on a pipe, then another, then a third... and he had found it.

For the first time since claiming the building, the pipe was warm. Something was passing through. He moved to another pipe, finding it far too cold. He moved through, testing everything; hot, cold, vibrating, oddly still. Something had activated the factory. Liquids, gasses, vacuum pressure, it was all being produced, transported and moved, perhaps even produced in the factory Sado had claimed. His muscles tensed. His empire was at stake. As the pressure amped up, Sado heard pipes start to rattle. The factory was old, leaks were immanent. His chocolate brown eyes scanned the surroundings before he spotted a shut off valve.

His clients watched as the burly man strode for the valve, several steps behind their benefactor. They had no idea what Sado had discovered, what he was trying to do, but they all saw as the pipe burst and a cloud of orange vapor exploded outwards. Sado stumbled to a stop in shock as the gas hit him, condensating into orange droplets that rolled down his skin. The surprise had kept him from holding his breath and the warm, musky scent rolled down into his lungs. He felt a tingling, a burning, a broiling. At first it felt like his lungs were on fire, but the pain turned into pleasure, then the pleasure grew... and grew... and grew.

Before long, Sado couldn't stop himself from breathing in. He stepped toward the vent, his head fully engulfed. He inhaled another lung full, then another. With each breath his body was infused... and it already started to change. His skin grew tighter, stronger, more resilient. The muscles beneath bulged and expanded. His nipples grew larger and his legs widened. Even his teeth seemed to grow a bit sharper, the canines becoming fangs, but the most pleasurable change had to be in his shaft.

Sado had always been very generously endowed with an almost ever-erect ten inch rod, but the hard shaft had never felt so soft to Sado. As he breathed in the vapor, his member started to expand once more. More and more gas infused blood spread into his rod, the flesh widening and elongating. The round mushroom shaped head dropped down below the line of his kilt, seeming plumper than ever, almost purple with the blood in it. It stretched to eleven inches, thirteen, fifteen and still showed no signs of stopping anytime soon.

While Sado received the bulk of the gas, the cloud spread out, dissipating slowly as it reached toward the others, but it had just enough of a charge left to start its work. The men caught I the leather web moaned as their abrasions healed, their skin toughened up and their muscles firmed a bit. While they hadn't changed much on the outside, the gas cemented the connection in their brain between pain and pleasure while still making their bodies more resilient in the first place. All the pleasures they had ever enjoyed were heightened but no one was pushed further than Sado.

The grand master of perversion seemed almost like a beast as he inhaled the gas; even going so far as to gather the orange drops on his fingers and lick them clean. His tongue stretched out to a point, but so did his fingernails. The keratin had pushed out, honing into sharp points like pseudo-claws. His muscles continued to expand and his manhood reached eighteen inches in length... but then, all to abruptly, the gas sputtered and shut off. Sado's eyes snapped open, but they were no longer a chocolate brown. Orange flecks had dominated them before spreading out to fill his irises with the unusual color.

Sado looked at the pipe, then he looked around. All of his clients had been hit by the gas, though none had changed so much as him. Sado looked down at his cock hanging down below the end of his kilt, then his clawed hands. He licked his fangs and then stuck out his long, reptilian like tongue. Then the bearded man slowly grinned. At last he was the sexual predator he had been born to be. Sado looked around at the others, awaiting an explanation, wondering what had happened. He knew this was an opportunity, an opportunity to expand his kingdom, to become something even greater. Sado took a breath.

"You have all witnessed the start of a new age; you have all received a technological blessing... Trinity has chosen us to advance our cause, to spread our kind among its people... To hide in the shadows no longer. We have evolved into what we were meant to be. Today marks a new age for us all. Your ld lives are over. You belong to me now... and there is much work to do." Sado said, looking at them all, "Who is with me?!" he exclaimed. The men cheered and howled, grunted and roared. There wasn't a single dissenter among them all, and Sado couldn't have been more pleased.

****

The reconstruction at Genetech after Sym's attack was a slow process with continuous changes, revisions and updates to the plans as scientists got bigger and better ideas on how to improve things. For the workers in the lowest levels of the facility, it was nothing more than a headache. The only good thing about it was the pay check. The hallways and utility tunnels looked like pieces of a jig saw puzzle as the burned portions had been completely cut out, leaving only the untouched portions. In the midst of it all, the construction crew sat with their legs dangling over the edge of an exposed piece of floor, looking at the much older pipes and conduits running beneath the facility as they ate their lunch.

"You think the New York Nets will make it into the IO finals?" One of the workers asked. The other worker chuckled.

"I think there's a better chance of the planet freezing over." He replied.

"Actually, you're right. I heard if climate change keeps going, it'll trigger another ice age." The first commented. The other stopped with his sandwich half way to his mouth.

"How is it getting hotter gonna make it get colder?" he asked.

"It's gotta do with the salt water and the currents in the ocean and stuff." The second replied. The two went back to eating, gazing at nothing in particular. A short distance away, their tablet flashed to life as a new message started to come in. One of the workers groaned.

"Another update... I wonder what they want us to do this time." He said, reaching for it.

"It can wait until after lunch, we're not on the clock anyway." The first said. The workers went back to eating, neither glancing at the screen. Digital static was rare in the modern age, but the screen flickered and pulsed, a faint DoD emblem appearing before the shadow system uploaded new information, interfacing with the current blueprints before creating what it needed most. A new blueprint was uploaded, indicating a series of connections between the Genetech chemical lines and the 'auxiliary overflow system' that ran beneath the building. With simulated signatures and symbols of approval, it wouldn't take long for the blueprints to be made reality.

****

Normally sleep for Gideon and Slater was one of peace and contentment, exhaustion from a day of hard work and a sense of fulfillment from the good they were doing, but Gideon had started to toss and turn in his sleep, murmuring. Slater's eyes snapped open almost immediately. He rolled over to face Gideon, watching him move. He reached over to caress Gideon's shoulder.

"Gideon, wake up..." Slater whispered. Gideon moaned more, his eyes squeezing shut, his muscles tensing. Slater grew more concerned, "Gideon!" Slater said, moving to gently move Gideon back and forth. Gideon seemed even harder to rouse so Slater leaned forward and gently bit Gideon's shoulder.

"No!" Gideon exclaimed as his eyes snapped open, his chest rising and falling. He looked around in concern before he saw Slater and sighed, feeling his body starting to relax.

"What were you dreaming?" Slater asked, almost frightened. Gideon trembled gently before he wrapped his arms around Slater, hugging him tightly.

"I was floating above the city and I heard this pulsing, this thumping, like a heart beat of the city... but then screams started to escape, muffled screams... People were afraid, people were terrified... But I was the only one that could hear them." Gideon said softly.

"Your Meta sense needs to be a little more specific." Slater said softly.

"We're not calling it that." Gideon replied. Slater grimaced before he kissed Gideon's cheek, pulling his boyfriend closer.

"All we can do is what we can do. As soon as we know what's going on, we'll fight it... We'll save those people." Slater said.

"I... I guess you're right, I just have to keep my eyes open for something a little deeper." Gideon replied. Slater nodded.

"You need your sleep... Now, I promise I'll look after you. Just lay back, relax, and let's dream of the good things to come." Slater said, nuzzling his face in Gideon's neck. Gideon held Slater close, slowly letting his eyes slip shut once more.

****

The moon had risen over Trinity and the creatures of the night had emerged, but for one unlucky Omega wolf, he'd spent the whole day trying to recover from being sprayed in the eyes with enhanced pepper spray. The inclusion of wolf's bane had made the damage a bit more lasting and his eyes were still red as he dipped his clawed hands into the fountain, collecting the cool water before splashing his face. Several droplets ran down into the soft and furry mutton chops the werewolf had. He heaved a soft sigh, regretting that things had gone so very poorly for him when all he wanted was a good lay.

A twig snapped near by and the wolf turned around, but saw no one. He hesitated a minute before going back to washing his face, but another snap caused him to look around. Once more he saw nothing, but there was a strange tang in the air, a very artificial scent. The wolf stood up and moved away from the fountain, on his guard, but even with enhanced senses, he didn't feel anyone approach until Mark grabbed him around the waist. The wolf struggled to pry the muscled arm off, to escape, but as he moved, a mask was placed over his face and held there. Just as before, straps shot out to lock around the werewolf's head, keeping it on.

Mark watched as the werewolf was dosed with a lower level of the super soldier serum. His back went rigid and his body twitched. It was an interesting experiment given that the chemicals had never been tested on those with spliced genes, but Mark was rather confident. He slowly released the werewolf and stepped back to watch. The omega twitched and shuddered, stumbling back as he felt a transformation coming on, but it wasn't anything like he had felt before... it felt like a transformation worthy of a beta or even an alpha.

The werewolf's left arm rippled as muscled bulged, growing veined and thick, throbbing. His shirt split out around the muscle, the tears spreading as he grew. It stretched longer, his hand passing his waist before his fingers cramped and flexed. His fingernails all but exploded from his fingers, stretching out into three inch long curved, black claws. The arm was completely disproportionate to the rest of his body, but as the gas spilled into his lungs, the rest of his body struggled to catch up. His right arm bulged and grew to match the first, the fingers clenching and releasing, but it was far from over.

Mark watched the muscles push out almost violently from the werewolf's legs, but as they grew, they also changed. The man fell forward onto his hands, barely managing to stay up on all fours. His pants split out and hung like ragged strips from around his body as his knees and ankles shifted. His bare feet started to grow wild, the claws that had been there before stretching out even more wickedly. The omega shuddered, embracing his change, but as he looked at his body, he couldn't figure out why he wasn't growing any more fur. Normally it had started by then... but the question faded from the werewolf's mind along with every other thought.

Soon the werewolf was still, changing and mutating, but not reacting. It was as if he was waiting to be told what to do, losing every bit of humanity as he waited. Ridges pushed out of his back as his vertebrae changed, his ribs shifting. His shoulders and pelvis manipulated around, making it impossible for him to stand upright. In moments he was a quadruped, but the most profound changes were still to come. The werewolf continued shifting, the change finally reaching his head.

While Mark had realized the masks were stretchy, it wasn't until he saw the mask pushing out over the werewolf's natural muzzle that he realized just how forgiving it was. The omega's jaw pushed forward along with his nose, his mouth reorienting completely, but no matter how much it changed, the mask stretched over it. The werewolf's pointy ears grew longer and taller, moving up a bit but the straps on the mask kept them from migrating all the way to the top of the head.

The change had been so fast and so violent that when the process finally slowed, Mark was almost stunned. The werewolf youth that had attacked him in the park was now simply a canine unit, a wolf ready to serve him. Mark slowly crouched down, looking between the feral wolf's legs, watching his eight inch member push out into a more canine point, swaying as it elongated to ten and then twelve inches. The wolf lifted his head, gazing out through dark gas mask eyes, taking in the appearance of his master.

"Good dog..." Mark said softly, "Let's go get you your uniform..." he said, patting the beast on the head before he moved to walk off. The wolf followed after, his gate measured and perfect, every step landing with military precision. Mark was very pleased with how the experiment had gone, though he still had one more kind of subject to test. Mark led his wolf recruit back through town and back to the utility tunnels, moving down the ramp. While it was night and the vampires had spread out to the streets, he knew there was still one who would be there. It took little time to find the new recruit.

The nineteen year old had been left in the alcove to finish his transformation. His skin had grown pale but the wounds in his neck had not yet healed. He was weak, his body becoming something entirely new... but Mark had something better in mind for him to become. He pulled the second of the masks off of his belt and moved forward. The vampire looked up, his newly red eyes widening in surprise.

"Who are you?" he called out in fear. Mark moved forward, crouching down in front of the scared nineteen year old vampire.

"I am Mask..." Mark said simply.

"Are you here to hurt me?" the recruit asked softly. Just as he had done before, Mark threw up the horns before inverting them into fangs. The vampire relaxed, assuming he was with a friend. He leaned back and sighed. "I thought for a while that they had left me behind to fend for myself." He said.

"They did, but I'm different. I don't believe in leaving a man behind." Mark said. The vampire turned, looking confused as Mark lifted the mask up, pressing it to his face. Just as before, the mask adhered to the wearer, sending its straps out. The vampire clawed and tugged at the mask, struggling, but Mark could already hear the gas spilling into his lungs.

The vampire tried not to breathe, but the gas pressure climbed higher and higher until it forced into his lungs. His fingernails throbbed before they started stretching out into claws, but to Mark's surprise, the fingers themselves started growing longer too. The vampire shuddered before he slumped over, his body convulsing. His shirt started to contort, bending in strange ways. Mark reached down to tear his shirt open, casting it aside, seeing that skin had started to grow out between the vampire's arm and his ribs, connecting the two. There was slack in the flesh, but it spread quickly down both sides.

"Wings..." Mark murmured in awe. Soft patters came as the wolf advanced closer, looking at the vampire as he changed. The wolf's cock started to drizzle pre, wanting to hump the new recruit. Mark waved the beast back, letting the vampire change. He writhed and shifted as the wings kept growing out, but even the vampire's ears pushed up into points, his face widening and pushing out into a slight muzzle. To Mark's surprise, a slight lump pushed up against the top of the gas mask muzzle, forming a slight bat like hook nose shape.

Mark grinned in glee, watching the vampire's shoes split out to reveal clawed feet, his body musculature changing. While the gas seemed designed to make super soldiers, that feature extended to gene spliced individuals, turning werewolves into wolves and vampires into part bats. It was perfect, psychological warfare. Every faction in Trinity would fear or respect him, and the smart ones would do both. In a few more moments the vampire sat up slowly, his motions cool and calculated, no fear left in his body. He turned to look at Mark.

"What are your orders sir?" The vampire asked.

"You are to follow me and receive your uniform." Mark replied.

"Yes Mask, Sir." The vampire replied. Mark grinned, truly liking the sound of that. He was surprised by how quickly his life had evolved, but he wasn't going to look back, not when the future was so promising.

****

A gentle breeze blew across the restaurant's patio, rustling through the leaves. What little light spilled out of the restaurant illuminated their underside to a midnight green, but for the most part they were black on black, adding more sound than color to the night air. The doors to the restaurant opened as a waiter led Gideon and Slater out, setting up a table for them. The waiter reached over to tap the hip high fence around the patio and warm creamy LED lights illuminated inside, casting a warm glow and a bit of romantic ambiance. Gideon moved to pull out Slater's chair and Slater blushed, sitting down carefully as Gideon slipped the chair in behind him before moving around to sit across from his lover.

"And what can I get you fine gentlemen this evening?" the waiter asked.

"Apricot nectar." Gideon smiled. The waiter seemed a little surprised but turned.

"And for you?" the waiter asked, looking over at Slater. Slater considered.

"How about a Ramune Night, cherry." Slater said. The waiter nodded and disappeared to get the drinks, leaving the boyfriends on the patio.

"I have to admit, the extra week off was an unexpected surprise." Gideon said.

"Well, what's a guy to do when there are so many miracles?" Slater smirked.

"I just can't decide if I should visit the hospital again, or prepare for whatever is coming. I don't want to drain myself and then be helpless when the city needs me." Gideon considered.

"Well, maybe you could try healing one person a day rather than a big sweep, still make a difference but have strength left over, and-" Slater paused as the waiter returned, setting down a glass of orange apricot nectar in front of Gideon and a glass bottle in front of Slater. The Ramune had changed little since its export from Japan, the contents still kept in the unusual bottle via a marble and gas pressure, but the introduction of the Ramune Night line had added some alcohol to the carbonated beverage and it was just the sort of edge Slater enjoyed on a night on the town.

"Have you had time to consider your orders?" The waiter asked. Gideon nodded.

"I will have the Tilapia with a side salad and honey mustard dressing." Gideon said.

"And I will have the biggest, juiciest burger on your menu." Slater grinned.

"Very fine choices." The waiter said before he moved back into the restaurant, leaving them alone.

"You carnivore." Gideon smirked.

"Admit it, you love me being a predator." Slater grinned.

"I love you being you, and I always will." Gideon said, gazing into Slater's eyes. Slater gazed back, his heart melting into a puddle of love as he leaned in, the two meeting lips and exchanging a deep, romantic kiss before they pulled back slowly.

"So... tomorrow we should start your regimen." Slater said. Gideon looked puzzled.

"My regimen?" he asked. Slater nodded, leaning back.

"Exercising your mind and body, stretching yourself, learning new tricks, everything you need to be all you can be." Slater smiled.

"And you'll be my personal trainer?" Gideon asked.

"In your ear the whole time." Slater replied with a saucy grin. Gideon stuck out his tongue.

"You make everything sound kinky." Gideon replied.

"Just imagine what we could do with the prototype body suit... some sexy modifications." Slater whispered. Gideon purred at that before he shook hishead, trying to ground himself in the moment.

"I like the sound of that, but we should probably keep it for emergencies, or in case you need to go into the field." Gideon said. Slater hesitated, looking at Gideon.

"Me in the field?" he asked. Gideon nodded.

"You're right, maybe we need to make you your own costume... I was stupid to think that you'd want our prototype." Gideon shook his head. Slater reached out across the table and took Gideon's hands in his.

"There's only one suit more precious than the first one I made for you, and that's the one that keeps you safe. I'd be honored." Slater whispered.

"Well, something to consider." Gideon smirked. Slater contemplated for a moment.

"It could still have sexy modifications." Slater whispered. Gideon chuckled and leaned over to give Slater another deep, lingering kiss beneath the moonlight.

****

After forty years, the GP-60 project was back in full swing. The gas was slowly brewing, more masks were being built and the polymer beds were vacuum sealing around two new soldiers. Mark watched as the rubber material ensnared their bodies, though the machine seemed to be trying to adjust to their unconventional bodies. Still, the sight of it made Mark hard, his cock pushing out away from his body, completely encased in his body suit. While he didn't mind the olive drab on himself, he had programmed the computer to give his new recruits black uniforms and it was paying off.

The wolf thrashed and shifted as the charge caused the suit to finish sealing to him and he all but lunged from the frame, coated from head to tail in black rubber. Even his tail creaked as it wagged back and forth. The machine took a bit longer on the bat before he tore himself free, thick rubbery black wings glistening in the light. Mark looked them both over in awe, but as the wolf turned to look at the bat, Mark saw something he hadn't expected... the wolf's pucker had been perfectly coated in black rubber. Every edge, contour and fold glistening black, exaggerated by the rubber to a slightly larger side.

Mark felt a twitch run through his body, a need to assert his command over his troops. He took a step forward, then another, his large boots coming down on either side of the wolf's hips before he grabbed on. The wolf lifted his gas masked head in surprise before he felt something deliciously thick and hard wedging into him. The wolf let out a soft moan as Mark pushed forward, his rubber coated cock encased in a rubber coated ass. Mark started to slide forward and back, fucking harder and deeper, grinding.

Sensing a group bonding experience, the bat moved to kneel before the wolf, reaching down between his legs. The long, clawed bat fingers encircled the wolf's rod and started to stroke it, causing the wolf to thrust forward and back, clenching his ass around his general's rod. Somehow, despite the perversion, they knew they were all soldiers and it was their duty to keep troop morale up. If it came in the form of sex, so much the better.

Mark's rubber body suit squeaked and groaned as he worked, fucking in and out of his new canine, getting countless inches into the beast. Soon he was hilting into the wolf and the wolf was panting, though he only breathed the super soldier gas in and out, his levels kept at the max by the mask. Mark kept fucking the wolf hard before he tipped his head back and roared, his thick spunk spraying into his suit. The juices flowed around his rod, basting his cock in his own seed before his shaft slowly grew just a bit larger.

Feeling the pulsing, the wolf soon howled, his cock pulsing. The suit struggled with it for a moment before the fluid was categorized and yellow spunk dribbled out of the rubber, leaking onto the floor. So turned on by the sight, the bat collected the spunk on his long hands and smeared it over his black uniform, letting it glisten in the light, his own rod achingly hard. Mark looked at his soldiers happily. They were going to do very well.