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This works contains scenes of Male-on-Male sex, transformations, cum, muscles and varied furry shenanigans. If that displeases you, I recommend reading another thing.

I hope you enjoy and thank you for taking the time to read it!

---

You have mail.

• Reminder: Do NOT use the official mail for social calls.

• Annual expenses report – Public Announcement.

►●Report from research facility Plesia II. Agent name: Donovan Martens.

• Training drill relocated to Hall 5F due to maintenance.

• Party next week! Will bring pizza 😉 – Nate.

_ _

►Report from research facility Plesia II. Agent name: Donovan Martens.

► I have successfully established myself as a member of the research team on Asvista Island, per my instructions. As of the writing of this report, there does not seem to be signs of weapon development on Plesia II; just the established biochemical and energy research as we have been told. However, there seems to be an unexpected individual here on the facility; doctor Edward Collins, the former lead of biochemistry at the Department of National Health.

Doctor Collins was alleged to have died a year ago, when a virus he was studying infected him and developed far to quickly for treatment and, combined with his already weak immune system, caused him to perish a week after contagion. It seems those reports were premature.

As of this message, he is the head of the “Marianas Project”, the main focus of this facility; research to develop clean energy using bio-compounds as a means to harness electric power. Due to my nature as a new member, I have been relegated to side projects, as only senior members are allowed into the “Antlion”, the compound where it is being researched; it is protected twenty-four hours by heavily armed security, making it infiltration hazardous and almost impossible. Still, there is no evidence indicating it is weaponry related.

The project itself has received an elevated number of resources and personnel as of late, with doctor Collins rarely leaving the compound, and frequent loads of cargo are brought constantly.

Regarding the cover-up of doctor Collin’s death, I have reason to believe, given the nature of this facility, that the government is somehow involved. I recommend immediate action be taken to avoid any further conflict.

_ _

►Data on doctor Collins:

“Genius Ph.D. student graduates with honors from State University at 18.”

“Playing with death: brilliant scientist studies virus despite being immunocompromised.”

“Doctor Collins on biochemistry; ‘I believe thinking only in the capacity of the present blinds us to the possibilities of the future.’”

“New vaccine for the flu in development, ‘Expect great things’ says head of research.”

“Doctor Edward Collins dies at age 29 after accidentally being infected with a virus.”

_ _

►Report on the WK-Incident:

At 2328 hours, Tuesday 17th - 2023, January; all communications with Plesia II were lost. Noticed due to the daily checkup on the scientist stationed there are required to do in order to guarantee their safety; it got no answer despite repeated attempts by the ground team to do so. Any attempt at communication ended in failure, thus rendering the status of Asvista Island unknown. Satellites became unable to identify the island, prompting an emergency meeting by the government; it was decided that a military team would be dispatched to the island to investigate the event and try to rescue any survivors present.

It is worth noting that contact with agent Donovan Martens was lost a week prior to this.

_ _

►Report on the WK-1 Incident:

While the meeting to determine what would the course of action was taking place, two distress signals from Plesia II were received. One of them was sent from the equipment that was given to agent Donovan Martens, who was believed missing at that point; the other was sent from the Antlion compound on Plesia II.

This prompted the unanimous vote to establish a rescue team to search for survivors as discussed in the previous report.

_ _

►Operation Ibis:

As stipulated by the command center; the mission directives are such:

1. Investigate the cause of the WK-Incident on Asvista Island.

2. Search for any survivors in the facility; priority shall be given to doctor Edwards Collins, with second priority given to the extraction of agent Donovan Martens.

3. Establish safe zones for the arrival of future teams.

4. Deal with any possible hostiles on the island, lethal force is authorized.

5. Under no circumstances is this mission to be divulged to the public. Take the appropriate measures to prevent such a thing.

The unit in charge of this mission is “Team Regina”, they will be picked up by their chopper at 2000 hours on the designated landing pad. They are to arrive at Asvista Island at approximately 2133 hours and promptly begin operations.

►Team Regina members:

• Hale Johnson – 47 Male – Team Leader.

• Erik Gallaher – 36 Male – Chopper.

• Peter Winston – 25 Male – Medic.

• Nathan Takahashi – 25 Male – Computers Expert.

• Carter Rodríguez – 36 Male – Weapons Expert.

• Gary Caine – 35 Male – Tactical Advisor.

_ _

►Final Instructions:

Once the target/s have been successfully recovered, abandon the island with them as soon as possible. Posterior teams will be in charge of further advancement on reclaiming the terrain.

---

At least, the mission was easy. On paper, that is. A simple extraction of a VIP on an island in the middle of nowhere. Absolutely easy, nothing to write home about; his team had zero cause to worry, with their stellar teamwork instilled after hours and hours of training almost guaranteeing their success.

Gary sighed tiredly. Not even his ten-year-old self would have believed that.

“All I am saying is you could ease up a little, Pete,” said Nate, the ever-present smile on the Asian American directed at the other side of the helicopter. “There is no need to have such a sour face. It is such a waste to ruin such a handsome thing with that sneer.”

He could see his face, as it lacked the helmet; free of facial hair with pale skin and crinkling blue eyes, framing a masculine visage half hidden in gear, black hair that surely violated the dress code coming down to the sides. A finger spinning the helmet in place as he looked at Peter’s direction, tall and muscular; he was slouched on the metal seats, a lazy grin painted on his face as he eyed the others.

“You will not address me as ‘Pete’,” said the man with a lilt of anger in his voice. “Winston will do, or lacking that, Technician Winston will suffice.” He was slightly smaller than Nate, in full gear already, sans the helmet which rested at his lap, an angular face, clean-shaven and stern deep brown eyes, the same shade as his hair. ‘A perfect face for the army’ he remembered Hale saying to him sometimes. He was also the picture-perfect soldier, not a single hair out of place; all equipment in pristine condition and a ram-rod posture so straight Carter swore he had a metal pole surgically inserted in him.

As of right now, Peter seemed interested in throttling Nate and kicking him off the helicopter all the way down to the sea. Nate, as always, was Olympically ignoring any negative intent directed at him by either sheer bluster or plain ignorance.

“Come on man, its just a party,” he chuckled while he absentmindedly fiddled with his pockets, before bringing from them a chocolate bar. “We will bond and all that jazz. What’s wrong with that?” He peeled the paper and bit it. “So, does it matter where it’s held as long as it gets results?” He pointed the half-eaten chocolate at him.

Peter exhaled through his nose. “It does matter because the Captain’s Quarters are not for drunken celebration! This is a special unit for high-risk missions, not a stupid frat boy’s fraternity welcome!” Nate’s smile hardened and Gary saw Carter, a big black man, seemingly enjoying the conversation, a smile splitting his face as dark eyes flitted between Nate and Peter in turns, almost as if he was waiting for one of them to jump the other. “Also,” he said while his eyes tried to melt the chocolate, “we were told not to bring any food that is not rations! This is a blatant breach of code! Can you not follow such simple instructions?”

Nate threw his head back and laughed. “Oh man, you are such a hallway monitor!”

The man’s face flushed with color. “What’s wrong with that? It just shows commitment to the rules.”

Nate’s face lit up like a kid on Christmas. “So, you were a hall monitor at school! I knew such hardassery had to be cultivated since childhood!”

“That’s not even a word!”

“Spelling bee champion too, I bet.” Carter snorted and Peter got even redder, face twisting in a snarl. “Oh, come on, dude, it’s not my fault you look like the stern Student Council President from those animes.” His smile took a teasing edge. “Or is that intentional on your part?”

Peter shot up from his chair. “You little piece of–!”

“Enough.” Peter immediately sat down, even faster than he had sat up.

The word wasn’t particularly loud, but it shut them down and brought everyone’s attention to their leader, Hale. His face was set granite, the palest blue eyes Gary had ever seen on a person drilling holes in Nate, as his rugged face with a whitening beard and black hair commanded their attention, bulging muscles unable to be concealed even by layers of gear.

Crossed arms, with the biggest biceps in their unit, a helmet set on the metal chair near his legs, hands unfolding to point at Nate. “You will give your teammates the respect they deserve.” Nate leveled defiant eyes at him, unwilling to back down. “If you cannot do that, perhaps it would be better to go back to basic training. It seems you did not train nearly enough.”

Nate managed to hold Hale’s eyes for a minute before he chaffed and turned his face away. “Fine. I just wanted to make a good party for hardass over there.” He pointed at Peter with the remains of the chocolate bar before shoving the rest in his mouth, the smile gone from his face. “I know he never celebrates his birthday, not that he has told anyone when it is, anyway.” He crumpled the wrapping and shoved it down his pockets.

A silent beat passed. Carter stared expectantly.

“Though,” Nate continued, the smile returning with a metallic edge, “I was going to ask H-Man for permission, you know? Was even going to ask him to choose the cake flavor.”

Peter was a tomato now. “You will treat Captain Johnson with due respect!”

“Cool your jets, man. He is my type, but I am not going to steal him from you.”

Gary was surprised Peter’s head hadn’t exploded yet.

“Takahashi.” Hale’s eyes were a tundra.

“I think we should get ready now,” said Gary, hands in a placating position, slowly coming down. “We are close to the island, aren’t we?”

“I am ready for instructions.” Peter’s clipped tone resounded in the chopper. His eyes trained solely on Nate. “Others may need to be told very slowly.”

“Enough, Peter.” Hale was tapping his left boot on the floor, a rhythmic tap-tap filling the enclosed space.

Nate’s smile turned an ugly showing of teeth. “What, you think you can do it, Hall-Boy?”

“There is no need for that,” intervened Gary. He turned to Nate. “Come on, Nate, we can have a party; you, me, Carter, and Erik. I can bring the beer.”

Nate deflated for a second, before shaking his head and speaking again. “I don’t know, dude, will Hall-Boy over there rat us to Command for ‘unruly behavior’?”

“Children,” Erik’s voice came through the intercom mounted on the wall of the chopper, “If you keep fighting, I will turn this thing around and you will have to explain to Command why we came back with a failed mission.”

Carter snorted. “You heard the man.” He turned to face the Captain. “Boss, we are ETA ten minutes to Asvista Island. Time for the last review for the mission.”

Nate and Peter continued to stare at each other. So, Gary just went ahead and lowered the TV from the roof, the sleek black appliance lighting up.

Hale gave them both a last hard look before standing up and positioning himself near the electronic.

The overview of an island vaguely shaped like a leaf appeared on the screen, a patch on green land floating among a clear blue; a gray part near the northeast coast being the only indicator that civilization existed there. “Asvista Island,” Hale began, and Gary could see Peter straightening up, He will break his back that way one of these days, and Nate clasping his hands, eyes solely trained on the screen, occasionally jumping to Hale and then the medic. “Asvista is a private island operating a research facility, Plesia II, for both technology and biological advancements. It is under the sponsorship of several companies like Greene Co., Sillex Inc, Marshell & Associates, and grants from the government.” The logos of those named enterprises quickly flashed along the screen.

Hale continued, the same drill sergeant tonality permeating his voice to the point he seemed more machine than man; completely devoid of stutters or hesitation. “The island itself is closed to the public, not even appearing on any maps; the guise of private propriety of a rich eccentric that lives there is to be used if discovered. Its true nature has been kept hidden, and has operated for ten years already; air and sea spaces are tightly controlled, and any civilians that get too close are rerouted. However, after years of successful research on medicine and technology, several parties became interested on the possibility of military application using the facilities on the island.

“Officially, Plesia II refused the use of their technology for military and weaponry means, citing their commitment to the advancement of humanity, not its destruction. Yet, several new arrivals, originating from military branches of the government, caused immense concern from Command, who theorized they could have accepted the deal in secret; as to not alert their sponsorship of the fact.” The image now showed a rather lanky blond man with hazel eyes. “Thus, we sent agent Donovan Martens to confirm the veracity of their claims”

He remembered the guy, a cheeky little thing, though nowhere as near at Nate, he had often seen chatting with various other teams at lunch. He always had a way with people in place of physical prowess and knew how to keep his mouth shut, unlike Nate who he was sure would pop if he stopped talking.

“If you read the report, then you already know who he encountered; Doctor Collins is our main priority in this mission. His retrieval coming first.” Several sterile rooms appeared and disappeared, many of the sporting technology that Gary didn’t understand the purpose of, some bulky and some sleek, many gleamed under the artificial light, the photos somewhat lopsided and at odd-angles. “Agent Martens managed to send us an overview of the inside of some of the buildings to complete the blueprints we have on hand.”

The screen split in two, with half now showing the blueprints of several edifices grouped together; the one in the shape of an ‘T’ lit with a blue color, and the previously black side showed the photo of a big door of black glass, a small guard post at the end of a dirt road, lush vegetation surrounding it. “This is the main building, where several auditoriums and laboratories are located; it is relatively guarded, and hosts several lounges to receive visitors.”

The blue light faded, opting to flood several rectangular shapes surrounding the main building, the photos on those were blurrier, taken behind trees and from an angle more pointed to the ground, closed gray buildings under heavy guard. “Those are dedicated laboratories to research; the ones on the left to technology, those on the right to biochemistry. They are under constant vigilance and some of them require access codes or are secured in other ways.”

Two twin buildings in the shape of a squared ‘C’ flanking a small circular dot were brought to the forefront, the images showing two gigantic western style mansions facing each other. Carter and Nate whistled. “Those are the residential quarters; the one to the right, the Ivy Residence, houses the scientists; while the other, the Maple Residence, houses the accountants, janitors and other staff. In the center there is a small recreational center, with games and a bar.”

What had to be the pier lit next, a blurry photo taken from a distance, Gary could barely see what he thought was a boat and some planes. “These are the only means off Asvista Island, several boats and planes that are tightly controlled. There are piers for small passenger boats and bigger ones for cargo.”

The last figure, a square on top on the ‘T’, separated by quite a distance and surrounded by a wall, became blue. The photo was the worst, barely visible and showing more leaves than gray, what could be seen was only a continuous band of glass crossing white concrete. “Finally, the most important building; the Antlion, the main research building of Plesia II and doctor Collins’ preferred place. It is surrounded on all sides by a wall and watchtowers. The only point of entrance being a heavily protected gate; a key-card, fingerprints and retinal scan are required to enter.”

“We lost contact with agent Martens three days after he send this photo. And a week later, the WK Incident happened.” The screen merged and showed the aerial view of the island once more. “And this is now how we see the island.” The image changed and Gary couldn’t contain his surprise. The image wasn’t blurry, nor trippy; the island had been replaced by a perfect black circle, almost as if the screen had broken on that specific point. “The distress calls were received three hours later.

“Our mission is this: recover doctor Collins, and, if possible, agent Martens, too.” He pointed to Nate. “Takahashi, you will be our main guy to get to the different buildings, the codes Command sent you will be of aid to allow us access to blocked areas.”

Nate gave a thumbs-up. “Don’t worry, H-Man, I won’t let the evil lasers cut us.”

Hale’s frozen stare could make adult men cry; the technician was amused by it. Peter was trying to set him on fire with his eyes.

“Winston, I want you to be ready for any impromptu emergencies that may arise. I will try to reduce them as much as possible, but it serves to be ready for anything.”

He shot up straight from the seat and saluted. “Understood, sir! I will give my best, sir!” He could see Nate biting his lip, corners of the mouth trembling.

“Rodríguez, you will maintain our weapons if needed. You will also be responsible for arming Martens if we find him”

Carter nodded once. “Understood, Captain.”

“Caine, you will help me in measuring the area and taking the necessary actions in order to accomplish our objectives.”

“Of course, Captain Hale.” His boss gave minuscule nod.

“Erik,” he said, tapping the small black earpiece, “you will drop us and seek a landing area for takeoff and protect it. If you see any personnel from an aerial point of view, recue them. Command has given us permission to do so.”

“I will protect them like the last slice of pizza, boss!” Nate chuckled, Peter frowned, and Captain Hale Johnson was made of granite.

“Expect trouble along the way and be careful, we don’t know what we will find in there.”

“Yes, boss!” came Erik’s answer.

“Yes, sir!” Gary and Carter chorused.

“YES, SIR!” Peter bellowed.

Nate thumbs came up.

“Good.”

Nate reached for his black military issued bag and took from it small silver laptop and began to type in it. On the other hand, Peter stood up and got closer to Hale, beginning to speak in low tones. For his opinion and more in-depth instruction, Gary thought.

He turned to his seat neighbour, who was absent-mindedly checking his gun, a bulky thing that was named Big Bert, so very fitting for a man of his bulk. “You should stop treating this as trip to the cinema.”

Carter huffed good naturedly, not taking his eyes of Bert. “But it is prime entertainment, and free to boot.”

Gary sighed, a common theme of this mission, it seemed. “It breaks team cohesion, that’s what it does. You know what happened in Edward City.” Carter stopped fiddling with the eyehole of the weapon, his eyes now trained on him. Say what they will, but Carter at least knew when to pay attention. “We don’t want to keep steeping on Command toes any more than necessary; and always allowing the Captain, Nate and Peter to get to that point won’t help us.”

Dark eyes flitted to the man typing on the computer, the rhythm a soft staccato flying lazily in the metallic insides of the chopper. Gary followed the look to Nate, completely oblivious to anything around him, not even hearing their conversation despite being near him in an enclosed space, his concentration occasionally stopping to look at the other two men on the chopper, before settling on the screen again. Then, they locked their gaze on Hale and Peter, the latter standing so uptight he was becoming more pole than man, eyes drinking the visage of the Captain, ignoring the clipboard Hale had taken out and was reading, choosing to concentrate on his face, almost as if he wanted to sear it in his retinas.

They stopped looking and Carter stared at him with a sardonic grin. “I don’t think we should stop them; it will only make them try harder to get on each other nerves.” He returned to his weapon. “Lock them all in room I say; they will either punch each other until they are friends, or they will finally fuck and get rid of the problem.”

Gary stared. “Be a realist, Carter.”

“But I am being a realist,” he said happily with an innocent smile. “Beating each other black and blue is how we became friends.”

He was never going to let him forget that, was he?

His best friend paused for a bit. “Though, you really looked like you took a dive in grape juice for a week.”

He flushed before he could stop it. “It is not my fault I am so pale.” It was true, he was the one with the lightest skin of the group, and bruised terribly easy, the purple and red splotches seemed to jump out of his body, and, combined with his blonde hair and light gray eyes, it made any color more jarring on him than it did on anyone else. Those training months left him looking like there was someone pelting him with paint at the end of each day. He had gotten better, but not as much as he would have liked.

“That’s not the point,” he insisted. “I just want to get this unit together, to not fall apart.” Bonds ruined were one of the most awful things on the planet. “Nate just needs a little direction and Peter only requires someone to lend a hand. Furthermore–”

“You coddle them too much,” Carter interrupted him softly. “Leave them to sort their own issues; they are at the age when they won’t listen to any seniors. They will eventually reach a solution, don’t worry.”

Gary felt anger rise from his heart, slowly coiling in his head, obscuring his reason. “And would rather have me do nothing? Until this unit collapses?” It took effort to not raise his voice, despite the others being occupied in their own things.

“Fine, if Mouthy there confesses to Captain, you have my permission to interfere; because I think the Little Soldier will make sure he greets the next day face down in the pool.”

His anger was now a constricting thing, doing nothing is how things got out of control in the first place. “You fuck, do you really need to–”

“We arrived, boss.” Erik’s voice cut his conversation short, and quite possibly saved Carter from being decked. “Prepare for deployment, boys and boys.”

Nate rolled his eyes, smiling as he packed the computer and fixed his backpack, reaching for his helmet and putting it on.

Hale and Peter had already theirs on.

Gary grunted and began to fix his gear, the helmet sliding easily on his head. He noticed on the corner on his eye, a small apologetic smile on Carter’s face before it was obscured.

It was time to get going.

Asvista Island – Northern Sea

The weight of his equipment calmed him a bit, the sensation strangely grounding. He could feel the reassuring presence of his trusty laptop on his back, and all his effort contained within.

He stole a glance to the Captain and Pete, both very stiff and not even looking at him.

Bastard. He didn’t not even think it his idea was that bad; just a small party with the team in the Captain’s room, there would be cake and some beer, they would spend the night chatting, there was not even the need to go crazy, just a small time with friends. Yet, it seemed that wasn’t in the taste of that stuck-up shithead, even when he only wanted to do something nice. A small thing to stop him from spending that day alone in his room, or forced to do asinine things and smile all day, wasting time with people he didn’t even like, all for looking prim and proper–

His train of thought stopped. He had gotten to close to home with that one.

He checked his parachute. It didn’t even need to be a party. All his teammates lined up with him, the door sliding letting him view clear skies and the deep sea, so dark it seemed like a second night sky, shimmering with the full moon. At the side and approaching, was a mass of green, with a small patch of light lost among the trees and vegetation, Plesia II.

But of fucking course the fucking hall monitor had to ruin it, like he ruined everything else. With that stupid chiseled face of his. He would get a smile out of them, a super rare thing that was nice, that looked nice. If only they weren’t such dicks.

“Deployment in three,” said Hale. Nate readied himself. “Two, one, go!”

He jumped.

One of the parts he most loved was this, the feeling of wind as he fell, the way his limbs swam through the air, almost as if he was flying, where no one could stop him or drag him back to earth. The freedom was amazing. He could see the others falling with him, arms extended and together like a flock of birds.

“Engage parachutes,” H-Man’s orders came clear, and he pulled the cord as requested. He always said a small thank you when it worked and the lurch indicated he was slowing down. The sea of trees below got bigger and bigger as they descended to the ground, until the top of the trees swallowed him up in green.

His legs hit solid earth and he unbuckled the parachute one second to late, almost making him topple into the floor, making him hop for a few metres to avoid falling face-first. He quickly checked to make sure nobody saw that, and it looked like he was safe; the others were letting go of their ow parachutes and readying their weapons. He gave a small sigh of relief, beginning the mission with a lecture on ‘proper safety of landings as stated in paragraph 14-B’ was not something he needed.

He shook his head, removing his air mask and switching to a more on land configuration, and began to look at the area he had landed. It was dense with vegetation, illuminated by the light of the moon, the tang of salt in the cool night. From the vantage point they had on top of a hill, he could see the artificial light ands concrete of Plesia II

glinting in the distance.

“Area clear, no hostiles detected.” Gary’s voice carried over to him.

“Good.” As direct as ever Captain. “Continue to the Facility as instructed. ETL Formation.” His manly voice had always had a way of commanding respect, and unlike most of his teachers, he had the personality to back it up.

He went to stand near Hall-Boy as Carter took the rear, and Captain and Gary took the front. When their boss had checked that everyone was in position, he began to walk and they began to follow, as they always did.

The terrain was uneven and riddled with roots, but nothing he hadn’t handled before. So, his mind wandered as the trees seemed to repeat and nothing seemed to be amiss. He began to formulate something to say to Peter, something to tell that Hall-Boy that he only had the best of intentions and that his sorry ass was the one interested in seeking ill-will in everything he says and that if he stopped being a conceited little piece of ass-huffing shit, maybe they could have a little fun, not that he even knew what that was, improving the team cohesion that everyone liked to blab about and maybe make him less of a smarmy–

…Perhaps it would be better not to tell him that.

He kept his mouth shut for the moment, after all, the mission was ongoing and, despite what everyone at the base believed, he earned this post through his blood, sweat and tears. All-nighters near the computer learning code after code, and mornings to hone his body and muscles into a well-oiled machine, no matter how much smaller that Hale’s they always were.

A rustle of leaves and wood sang behind them.

He whirled immediately, his shotgun in hands, cocked and ready to fire. He heard the others do the same, readying their weapons a forming a circle so no one could get the jump on them. His fingers ready on the trigger, his respiration even.

His hair stood on edge, the sensation of pinpricks traveling all the way from his head to his feet, coursing through his skin like cold water. He waited.

And waited.

The leaves crunched again, and he saw something big move to the opposite side of them with great speed, the leaves parting and rustling until the sound faded to silence.

Gary waited a minute before speaking. “All clear.”

“Too big to be human,” said Nate. “Faster too. Are there big animals on the island?”

Hale gave an affirmative grunt. “There is wildlife, and one of the tasks the guards at Plesia II have is dealing with anything that comes too close.” His posture eased into something more relaxed, and the rest of team copied him. “They were never hunted, though. Most of them avoid the area and fences deter entrance. It was probably a boar or such.”

Gary began to move. “Team, continue with the mission.”

Maybe he just needed to be best on this mission and show Pete, show Hale, that even though he liked parties and sex, he was as much of a soldier as them. Really, Pete liked to harp on him about proper behaviour at every chance he got, but it wasn’t like Command cared in the slightest; as long as they got shit done, they could fuck a horse and they wouldn’t give a damn. It simply was that Pete followed all the manuals he had found with an impressively annoying degree of dedication. He had even memorized them, and who even did that?

His thoughts were halted when they reached Plesia II.

The concrete building was imposing, a big thing of concrete with a big door leading to the entrance, tall and sleek.

Hale stopped them with a hand sign, motioning Gary to cover the sides of the dirt road they had found themselves at. The other members of the team standing close by.

Seconds tickled by.

“Clear,” came Hale’s voice.

Nate took that as his signal. He sauntered over to the gate with a smile on his face, a simple metal lock protected the guard house. Amateurs. The lock was easily undone, allowing the team to see a space completely devoid of people.

He noticed that the place was deserted. It was just the outside, true, but even then, he expected at least some guards patrolling the grounds, or some to be in the illuminated but empty guard house.

“Where is everybody?” asked Pete.

Nate tried, he really did, but he could not contain himself. “Maybe they are actually fun guys and had a crazy party.” Carter chuckled and Gary made one of those little snorts he always made when he was containing his laugher. “They must be passed out naked on the floor somewhere.”

Pete groaned. Perfect. He only makes those noises when he thinks its slightly funny.

Hale just looked at him, eyebrow arched. Score! He isn’t as disgusted as usual.

“I don’t think that it is, dude,” said Carter. “There would be at least someone who got drunk and tried to fuck in the guard house. Always happens, man.”

Good old Carter, you could always count on him to get it. He made finger gun at him. “Too true, man.”

He entered said building, a small thing neatly slotted into a corner of the road connecting to the tall black doors of the main entrance. It was spartan, only a small bathroom attached to the side and a mini-fridged nestled beneath a wooden table holding a computer and a small machine with a rectangular indent in it, some sort of card reader for the IDs, he supposed.

There was no gun nor any sign of ammo in there.

He unclasped the mini-computer on his wrist, extending a black cable to the USB port of the PC. It entered neatly, he was proud of his ability to always get it right at the first try, and the screen lit up.

He began to type rapidly, the system protected by a rather rudimentary system, most likely because the main entrance didn’t need to be as guarded as the gate of Antlion.

His teammates stood guard near him, guns at the ready and eyes searching for people.

“What do you really think happened here?” he said to them. “There doesn’t seem to have been a break-in or a fight.”

“Maybe one of the experiments went wrong and they recalled the personnel to Antlion to help with it?” Yes! Pete was actually answering his questions!

“I don’t think they would have let the main entrance unmanned, would they?” That’s a good point, Gary.

“Is it that unthinkable? After all, they are on an island in the middle of nowhere. It’s not like a bunch of drunk frat boys are going to stumble into the gates with their car.” You should have really seen what I did with the tractor on my senior year. “They only way in is through boat or plane, and they would have seen those coming.”

“Unless a trained team went in with a specialized airplane.” You always have an answer don’t you, Captain?

…

I kinda like that.

The computer on his arm went green. “Got it! Those movies have nothing on me.” He began to seek the archives on the monitor, at least what he could get from this terminal.

Huh, that’s odd.

“This one keeps the logs for the entrance, anybody that goes out gets logged, anybody that goes in has to use their ID and gets logged.” A lot of names were written, he could see Donovan’s name on the list, albeit too disperse to draw any conclusion from it. Yet… “The last log that this computer gave was to doctor George Lahife on Monday 7th; more than week ago.”

“That’s when Martens stopped his reports,” said Pete.

“Yup.” Hew made sure to pop the ‘p’. “Before that, there were consistent logs every day; from scientists to janitorial staff.”

“I don’t like this. This has been to calm until now,” said Gary. “Should we call for aid, captain? Our comms still seem to work.”

“No,” Hale answered quickly. “We have not even seen any hostiles. We need more data if we want Command to send something.”

“Of course, Captain. That is a good course of action.” Ugh, the Captain could say that the new strategy is to run naked around the island and Pete would call it a stroke of genius.

“Does everyone agree?”

A chorus of ‘Yes, sir’ was the answer.

“By the way, the main door was unlocked.” Everyone turned to look at him. “What?”

“Let’s continue,” said the Captain. “Did you save the logs, Takahashi?”

“Aye, aye, boss.”

He nodded. “Off we go.”

The door opened with a hiss; the electric mechanism completely silently, welcoming them to the Main Hall.

It was a tall thing, three whole floors going up, a large sky hole letting him see the moon and the reception desk just in front of them, a steel thing that prioritized form over function. But what really caught his attention was the plants. Originally, he supposed, there must have been simple decorative plants to compliment the flowerpots lining the walls. Now, however, there had seem to be an explosive growth, the plants had expanded from their delimited space, their branches spilling out and climbing off the walls, joining the overgrowth flowerpots that were cracked and, in some cases, even completely broken, letting roots dig deep into the concrete of the floor.

The strangest thing of all that, was the color they vegetation possessed; light blue, red and purple flowers gently shined among normal green leaves. Strange elongated bulbs hung from the ceiling and walls, or from the plants themselves, a mix of colors that made Nate think of candy.

“What the fuck?” He realized he had spoken when he heard his own voice. “What the hell is this?”

“Be on guard, do not stray from the group,” Hale ordered. “Winston, I remember you also trained in foraging and other plant matters. Do you have any ideas what these are?”

Pete blinked a few times, before sputtering and composing himself. “I– no, sir. This level of bioluminescence is not normal.” He got close to the central part of the hall, near the bulbs, and immediately recoiled, face twisting into surprise.

Nate was at his side before he could give his legs the order to move. And he saw what had startled him; the bulbs, upon closer inspection, were shaped like horse-cocks or at least something very similar to them. They made the human ones seem minuscule in comparison, they had to be at least seventy centimeters in length and they were as thick as a beer can. The one in front of them was a pale blue color, which slowly turned black when reaching the base of the vine it was connected to, a small ring of protruding flesh was in the middle of it, and lastly, there was the imposing flared head. All in all, it was the strangest thing he had found hanging from a plant.

“Is there a plant like this?” he asked Pete. “Can it even exist?”

He had never seen him look so mystified. “Of course not.” He paused, inching near to look at the thing and, now that he was closer, could see it even had something resembling barbs near the top. “I have never seen something like this before, I am not even sure how to categorize it.”

Nate nodded. “Must be artificial, then. If it was natural the internet would have had a field day with them.” He wiggled his eyebrows at Hall-Boy, seeing his natural stern expression retuning to his face, the worry replaced by the perpetual affronted face he donned every time fun was suggested in any way shape or manner.

“Why is that the first thing you have on your mind?” He always reminded him of his teachers; the tired voice they had that meant they had delt with enough stupidity for the day and would like to go home as soon as possible. It was just a little insulting. “Honestly, with such a mind I wonder how did you even managed to pass training and– ”

It occurred quickly, far to quickly to react to it.

The horse bulb that they were observing coiled like a snake for a single moment, and with a startling accuracy, under the shocked faces of everyone on the team, lodged itself on Peter’s mouth, at least the flared head and part of the ‘body’ did, somehow seeming to fit into it despite the size difference.

A single stunned silent second passed before a muffled shout came from the technician’s mouth, and everyone rushed to him.

---

Plesia II Research Facility – Main Hall

The cock lodged in his mouth tasted delicious. That strange thought was the one his mind, so out of place it surprised him he was the one to form it, as he desperately tried to pry away the invading appendage; his hands pulling with all his might to no use, as his mouth was already stretched beyond capacity and unwilling to open any more to let the thing go.

“Holy fucking shit!” The scream came from his right, but his eyes were solely trained on the glowing blue in front of him, its mass occupying his field of vision. “Shit, shit, shit!”

“Cut it already!” That was Captain’s voice, he was worried for him. Warmth spread trough him. “Do it!”

“I am trying!” Takahashi is worried? “What is this thing made off?!” A small serrating sound of steel on wood filled his ears; half-hidden by a blue mass was his teammate, frantically cutting the vine section of the plant with his army knife, as both Caine and Rodríguez tensed the vine as much as they could. “Damnit all, this is supposed to a plant not a fucking steel cable!”

The thing was now rhythmically moving in him, slowly entering more of his mouth each time. The texture was rather silky appetizing and the flavor was musky, a thang of manliness warped in the taste of petrichor. He noticed the head began to leak something salty onto his mouth. His face began to heat up.

Takahashi left the vine and tried to cut the bulb itself, to a similar effect.

Strong hand clutched the sides of his jaw. “Stay still soldier!” They clutched his nose and chin and began to pull.

He could feel his mouth protesting, the pain slowly spreading through his face. “Stop it, you are going to break his jaw!”

The pain relented and his tongue began to lap the liquid, coveting more and more, and, before he knew it, he had begun to suck. Whatever was in his mouth rewarded him for the act with a seemingly endless stream of juice. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Ready the guns!”

His hand now wanted to fit as much of it in his mouth as possible.

Two hands came over his ears. “Brace yourself, soldier!”

Something even more salty and full of taste flooded his tongue, impacting the very back of his mouth and inundating his stomach.

The loud bangs echoed on the hall as the thing relented and his mouth knew freedom.

He collapsed on the ground talking deep breaths, swallowing as much air as he was able.

Hands were patting his back. “Shit, Pete, are you okay!?”

He heaved once more, noticing the white puddle forming on the floor, leaking out of the destroyed vine, parts of it still hissing and steaming. The bulb slowly deflating as it lost more and more mass and filling.

He could feel part of the liquid on his lips and it took effort to resist licking it from them, but he managed to. However, he did eagerly swallow the remaining that were on his mouth, still, he had enough of a mind left to make it discrete as possible.

Clarity soon began to return to his mind, as his vision centered itself and began to look at his companions properly. Worried faces welcomed him, as hands helped him up.

“I– I think so…” His head swam, he still tried to process what happened.

“Take it easy, Pete.”

He managed to shake his head and further clear his thoughts, and he noticed they still were on the Main Hall, beneath all those… colorful bulbs… “We must get out of here!” The plants now seemed to sway without a breeze, the colors blinking faster and faster.

“Shit, we gotta move!” ordered Caine, looking all around the room with increasing alarm. “Everybody, leave!” He pointed towards a double door on the left side of the building.

“Move!”

Takahashi quickly slid his arms under him and began to carry him with Rodríguez, who soon joined him in helping him move. Caine speeding up ahead while the Captain stayed behind them.

The plants now were rising their vines in their direction, all the cock-shaped bulbs rising at once, the leaves at the very base and the angle he saw them giving him the impression they were being watched by enormous eyes.

His legs began to speed up and he felt the arms leave him as he now raced towards the door.

Peter saw the plaque on the side of the door for just a second before Caine slammed into it and the rest of his team soon followed in.

Conference Room 1-C/ Laboratories 5-8.

He turned in time to see the plants now returning to their original positions before Caine and the Captain shut the door behind them, guns pointed at the door.

Nothing moved.

He heard Takahashi give a relieved sight near him. “Thank fuck we got out of there.”

He now was in a startingly clean corridor; bereft of any plant life or any dirt. On right side, there was a wall that stopped at an intersection and further down the corridor was a door with the words ‘Conference Room 1-C’ engraved on top of it. The left had a row of windows letting them see the rather distant coastline ahead of them, the moon only allowing him to vaguely see the silhouette of trees.

He could still taste it in his mouth.

When the door held and nothing rushed at them, he reached out to small backpack on his side and began to fondle in it for medicine, for something to silence the scorching heat that seemed to be pooling in his stomach.

“What was that!?” Caine’s voice was dripping with alarm. “Some kind of fucked up research? We weren’t told nothing about this!”

“Yeah, what the hell, boss!? We would have liked some waring about that creepy shit!”

Familiar anger began to rise from his being. “Do not speak that way to the Captain!” His voice was a bit raspy, giving it a certain edge.

Takahashi stopped searching for something and turned to look at him, a flash of confusion and something else on his face for a second, gone before he could analyze it further. “Come on, man, don’t do this! There is no way a laboratory capable of doing shit like this wasn’t in the radar of Command for while!”

“Listen,” said Rodríguez, “I know what you think, but if Command really knew what to expect out of this, they would have sent more units. They would not have let something like this slip through their fingers.”

Takahashi went to open his mouth before Captain Hale beat him. “No more of this,” his voice dripped a natural authority that anybody else had yet to match. He felt himself smile. “We are on hostile territory with things we do not fully understand yet, we will not fail this mission due to our own carelessness or infighting. Any protests or complaints you have will wait after this mission is over.”

He said it with such finality that Peter could only bring himself to say a simple “Understood, sir!”

Rodríguez followed with a small, “Yes, sir.”

Gary said, “Yes, sir!”

Takahashi glared and maintained it for a few seconds before ceding. “Whatever, H-Man.”

Peter managed to get half a protest out before his stomach pulsed with heat and it spread straight to his cock, making it hard and press against his pants. “Fuck!”

Everyone turned to look at him and he ripped a small jar from his bag, uncorked it as quickly as he could and threw a bunch of pills into his mouth.

A beat passed and the heat seemed to lurch and retreat for a moment. It shouldn’t be able to work this fast against an unknown pathogen. What kind of thing was that to make him horny?

A hand was on his shoulder, slowly steading it, and he realized he was halfway to the floor, breathing heavily. “Easy there, soldier.”

Light shined on his eyes, Takahashi holding a flashlight to his eyes. “They aren’t dilated or anything, boss.”

The words came out of his mouth easily. “It’s just a stomach-ache.” What would being horny for the horse-cock will look like to the Captain? “It is already abating, and the medicine will take care of the rest.” His cock was still hard on his pants.

He straightened up. “I’m fine. We must continue the mission. I will inform you of any anomalies that may present themselves.” He would not fail his team leader.

Captain Hale looked at him with those piercing eyes and, to his shame, his cock became harder. “Very well. But, if anything seems abnormal, you must inform us immediately. We do not know what that liquid may do.”

“Of course, Captain.” He would ignore it. He would not let shame come to the Captain.

Caine looked at him for a moment before speaking. “I recommend to be on guard and searching the Facility. There must be some kind of surveillance room on this edifice, we have to find it using Donovan’s blueprints and see if it can shed some light on how and when those things appeared.” He turned to Takahashi. “Nate, can you get in the system?”

He snorted. “Who do you think you are talking to? I will get the credentials to enter Antlion while I am at it.”

“According to the data we have, a surveillance room should be past that intersection,” said Caine.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Takahashi went up ahead, gun at the ready.

The others followed as silently as they could, fingers at the trigger.

A laser wall welcomed them.

It was so ridiculous, it was so inconceivable, that it got his thoughts out of the hole they had crawled into reality again.

It had blue lasers that formed a grid, a pattern of rhombs extending from indents on the walls, floor and ceiling. Illuminating the corridor in an eerie blue shine, the light perfectly constant, like someone had made a thing conic lightbulb and put it there. Two small consoles framed the inside and outside of the wall, a single lever on them, still beneath a green bulb.

“I was joking about the lasers, I really was,” said Takahashi, digging in his pockets for something, before producing coin from it, a blatant breach of the instructions regarding non-mission related objects from the manual, and threw it at the lasers.

The silver coin turned red and melted into a slag on the floor.

“Oh, this has to be bullshit.” For once. Peter had to agree with Takahashi on that alone.

The radio flickered to life, the signal patched into his earpiece startling him and almost having him pull the trigger by mistake.

Gallaher’s voice came, laden with panic and a desperate edge he had never hear on him. “Captain, Captain, I repeat; engaging hostile creature of unknown origin to protect two survivors! Why is nobody answering!?” He was panting, harsh sounds that echoed on his ears. Gunshots were sporadically heard from the line.

Hale took control of the situation immediately. “Hale here. What’s the matter?” They could see the chopper from the window now, shooting all it had at something hidden from their view by the trees.

“That thing is a monster, I shoot a fucking missile and it did nothing!!” An explosion rattled the windows, orange light exploding from the edge of the coast, a plume of fire and smoke extending to the sky.

Alarm crossed his Captain’s face. “What!? Explain yourself clearly, soldier!”

“They are using a car to escape to the facility! They are almost there!” That was the most frantic he had ever heard Gallaher sound. “Shit, I will have to– HOLY FUCK!” A tearing noise was heard as the helicopter began to spin wildly and crash to the ground with an explosion that rattled the windows.

He also heard the distant sound of breaking glass. “MAYDAY, MAYDAY, HELP–”

“ERIK!” Takahashi rushed to the lever and pulled it; the laser wall dissolved without a sound and his personal head-ache rushed to the other side and to the door at the end, now visible without the blue in the way.

“Shit, Nate, wait!” Rodríguez ran after him, breaking formation.

“Soldiers!” Captain Hale was ignored as Caine left them behind. “Fucking dammit all to hell!” He never swore before.

Peter soon found himself running with Hale through the corridors; windows, doors and lights blending together into a blur, the corridors twisting into a maze that Peter did his best to kept track of, despite already missing half of it. His only hope was the integrated GPS that they all had was correctly guiding Takahashi towards his teammate and not a dead end.

He heard a door slamming open up ahead and entered what had to be an employee lounge.

His brain stopped working.

Erik Gallaher, a fair skinned man with pale brown hair and eyes, was being held in a vice grip by what had to be a green dinosaur, a muscular dinosaur: it was way taller than a human, had to be at least four meters tall, with jutting pecs and impressive black nipples, tree trunk legs supported by clawed feet that dwarfed his by a mile, flexing arms bigger that his head. And the head was lizard like, a majestic mane of red hair descending from the top all the way to his back, he guessed, adorned with a smiling grin full of razor-sharp teeth, bright orange slitted eyes looked at him with amusement.

Peter cock grew as hard as steel.

The pilot was held by two arms, his delighted face directed at them, exposing his naked body and steel-hard cock for all to see as the gigantic cock of the dinosaur rubbed against Erik’s, the notion eliciting feverish moans from his teammate’s mouth. The shape was terrifyingly similar to those bulbs, except golden in color, sporting a set of dark balls the size melons.

His pants now were flooded with pre.

He noticed, deliriously, that cream scales had begun to spread over Erik’s stomach as his body shook and expanded. His abs gaining more definition, his legs and arms growing in tandem with yellow scales.

Gallaher looked at them and Peter realized his eyes were now the same orange as the dinosaur and equally slitted.

His whole body shook and expanded, the pecs expanding until they resembled two meaty mounds on his chest, his abs now carved of stone.

Peter came in his pants; all his mind could process was how happy his pilot looked and how he was moving in tandem with the slow thrust of the giant lizard.

From behind a bookshelf, ignored by them in the corner of the room, two more dinosaurs emerged. One was a deep dark purple, no hair, but the same massive body and cock the other sported, blue and dripping with pre and face twisted into a vicious grin, shared by scarlet eyes.

The other was a snowy white, a truly titanic black chest with jutting pecs. Peter locked eyes with it and purple eyes seemed to seep into his soul, a toothy face now split with a predatory grin, what seemed to be feather descending from its head to its back.

Gallaher didn’t seem to really see them, the scales beginning to expand on him, as his legs and arms began to thicken.

The dinosaurs began to advance.

The song of guns rang out and metal impacted them. His own silent and still.

Against all logic, against all that he learned in those medical lessons and years of practice, the bullets bounced off their bodies, falling down the floor in a metal rain.

The smiles on their faces didn’t waver; they became wider. Togues of colors the humans didn’t have licking lips in anticipation of a meal.

“RUN!” He didn’t know who gave him that order, but his legs jolted to attention and began to flee.

They didn’t have any direction, they just took the first road available; he could hear the steps behind them as he left the room behind, sprinting as far away as possible from that place.

His teammates could only be heard, his eyes focused solely on searching ways to escape, frantic and desperately trying to find something to hide behind.

He narrowly avoided a clawed swiped behind him, too close, too close, too close.

His feet keep touching tiled floor, he no longer could feel his companions around him. Shit, shit, shit. We got separated.

He threw himself at a door, entering a circular room with a wooden table surrounded by several chairs. He jumped over it, and as soon as he touched the ground again the table was thrown away, impacting the wall and splintering as the white dinosaur got closer.

He took a grenade, bit the pin, and three it at that thing, jumping to duck on the floor. The explosion rattled his ears and filled the room with acrid smoke. Not waiting a moment, he rushed to the northern end of the room, where another door waited.

He didn’t bother opening it, just slammed it open.

Behind him, laugher reached his ears.

He ran with all his might, but part of him was now in absolute panic. He got separated, didn’t had the slightest idea where he was, and was in the middle of enemy territory. His doom was all but certain.

“PETER!” The shout made his heart jump with joy. Nate was there, gesturing wildly at the end of a straight corridor. “HURRY!”

Nate was getting closer and closer; the technician had his left hand on something mounted into the wall, the other had his gun aimed at something close.

A roar came from behind him, and his heart fell as fast as it had risen.

He was almost there.

He threw himself, all his weight and hopes, into a mighty jump that send him sliding on the floor, all the way to the wall, as he heard a bang and an electric sizzle.

His harsh breaths were framed by a blue-laser wall. Behind it, there was a dinosaur man; the blue light harsh on white scales, two hellish eyes looking at them. Nate’s gun leveled at him from the other side, face covered in a sheen of sweat and furious determination burning bright.

Red eyes drifted over to the destroyed console on that his side, smoky and with sparks randomly flying from them, before slowly moving to them again.

A black togue lapped a reptilian face, before a deep guttural chirp emerged from what could be a smile.

The dinosaur man spun around, and without a sound, walked to the opposite side and disappeared at the end of the corridor.

Nathan did not relax, did not take his eyes off until the titanic animal wasn’t any longer in his view. When he did, he gave a shaky sigh, rushed to Peter’s position and dragged his still unmoving body.

Peter heard a door opening and was deposited on the cold floor as Nathan pushed a steel table full of beakers and a microscope to the door, followed by another that was put stilted towards it. His hand never let go of his gun.

He offered a hand to Peter.

He stared at worried eyes and took it.

Nathan smiled.

Glass shattered behind him and two set of guns spun, at the ready for any attack.

The scared face of a muscular red-head in his twenties and with a Hawaiian shirt looked at them as arms were raised in the air. “Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot, bro! Friendly! Friendly! I am friendly, bro!”

The computers expert broke into a nervous titter. “Fuck me, the jocks did crash their car!”

Despite everything, Peter couldn’t help but laugh.

Nate was never going to let that one go.