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Metempsychosis V – Storm/Reiken/Sorvaa'hr/Alswaram/Lancer (a continuation)

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_As I grew older, with practice and with time, I was finally able to control which dreamsphere I'd end up in (well somewhat, it worked most of the time anyway), be it by will alone and/or by emotional output. For example, if I felt depressed, Saimi or Nevlaan would usually be the ones to show up and comfort me . _

What I didn't realize is that I could get dragged there by another if their will was strong enough and/or if my own "true emotions" were as well. I say "true emotions", because when it came to Storm, I was still feeling torn apart. Part of me wanted to forget altogether about Storm's existence, if only for what I knew about him from the past flashbacks I had. It still hurt. I felt like he was not mine to keep. But then, as much as I wanted to deny it, a part of me was conflicted about it, I felt compassion and yes, no matter how much I want to deny it, that same part of me felt some degree of attraction for Storm. I was growing older and still whatever remnants of the mechanical activator from my ancestors I had in me was still very much present, gnawing at me almost every day. At times, it felt like a plague. A curse, maybe. The sound of engines, the smell of raw fuel and oil, the sight and smell of exhaust... it all wound make my hunger and my sex drive skyrocket. My eyes were constantly being drawn to sleek sports cars or to loud, dirty diesel vehicles. It drove me completely crazy, at times (still does).

It often felt more like a burden than a blessing. I felt like it came between me and my mate, at times. My first mate and the first one to allow it to bloom and roam free helped tremendously and I will forever be grateful (my dearest Rasp). Things passed and eventually my second mate accepted this side of me and allowed me to accept it, and even though he's no longer with us at the time of writing these lines (bless his soul), something about the human body (both my own and that of my mate) was giving me a hard time. He accepted me nonetheless and I will forever be grateful for that as well. I often felt more attracted to machines than living beings. At first, it just seemed like an odd fetish, then throughout the years it became a lot more. Of course, I was fully aware that my physical, waking life body was unable to indulge much at all in the pleasures of mechanical activators and that made it even heavier of a burden, not to mention the coming of dumb TV shows like “My Strange Addiction” which made a lot of people feel socially alienated (furries will know what I mean).

I often got depressed, doing everything I could to relieve the tension I felt (both sexual and emotional), most often with little success. I felt like a bad mate (for both of my mates). More so, I felt "broken". Being denied a driver's license thanks to my neurological condition only added to my grief. That alone took a very long time to make peace with. It was a hard pill to swallow, to say the least.

Yet someone besides my mate was ready to look past all this and reach out to me...

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I: Determination

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I woke up in the dreamstate with a jolt, immediately aware that something wasn’t right. This wasn’t where I had expected to be. As my senses settled, I began to recognize my surroundings—the same place I had been before. The air still held a faint, lingering heat, and there was a familiar scent hanging around me: the exhaust gases from Storm. That smell stirred something complicated inside me. It made my chest tighten with anxiety at the thought of facing him again, yet at the same time, it brought a strange sense of comfort, like returning to something I didn’t fully understand but couldn’t deny.

Trying to steady myself, I headed toward Nathaniel’s tent. Each step felt heavier than the last, as if I already knew something had changed. When I reached it, my fears were confirmed. Sitting atop a large chest was a handwritten note, carefully placed, almost as if it had been waiting for me.

As I read it, Nathaniel explained that if I was seeing this message, it meant he had finally gained control over his nightly visits to this place. His role here, he believed, was complete. In his waking life, he had been conducting his own investigations, trying to understand both this strange world and Storm himself—or at least the version of Storm that existed within my dreams. According to him, this Storm was not quite the same as the one he knew in reality. Rather, it was a tweaked version to suit my own desires and feelings. Possibly even a template, a placeholder for something bigger, something much more personal (which turned out to be revealed much later).

He went on to share something that caught me off guard. Nathaniel believed I had brought him here unconsciously, almost like a safeguard. Because of who he was—a soldier, and a descendant of Sorvaa’hr Ol’rath—he might have been drawn into my dreamstate in case I wasn’t strong enough to handle Storm on my own. If Storm ever turned on me, Nathaniel would have been there to intervene. He thought his own feelings and mine got somehow connected, like a metaphysical line through time and space.

Yet, there were still many things Nathaniel didn’t understand. The disappearance of his great-great-grandfather, the truth about Alswaram Osdaniil and Reiken Arvalan—those mysteries remained unsolved. The intel was classified and Storm, apparently, refused to even discuss them. Still, Nathaniel suspected that I might now know more than he did. What mattered most, though, was this: I had succeeded in reawakening Storm. More than that, Storm had accepted me as his pilot.

Nathaniel didn’t sugarcoat what that meant. Being bonded to someone—or something—like Storm wasn’t a gift; it was a heavy responsibility. He wrote that he prayed to the Great Flame (an entity which the Kelva worshipped as deity) that we would support each other and endure whatever lay ahead. He urged me to take care of Storm, to treat that bond with the seriousness it deserved.

Before leaving, Nathaniel had placed all of his belongings in the chest beneath the note, hoping they would be useful to me. He reassured me that even though he was gone from this place, he wouldn’t be far. If anything ever went wrong, if I needed him, he would come. Even if he was no longer walking beside me in these dreams, I would remain in his thoughts.

The letter ended simply with “In friendship, Nathaniel Ol’rath.” I lowered the note slowly, letting the weight of his words sink in. Then I opened the chest. Inside, I found an assortment of military gear—most of it unfamiliar, its purpose completely beyond me. Alongside it was a dossier Nathaniel had compiled, filled with fragments of information about Storm. It looked like he had pieced it together from whatever he could find in the Sirian archives.

As for me, from what I could tell at a glance, the Storm in front of me looked like the same one I had seen in those fragmented flashbacks. However, something was different. Some of his systems were still locked away, sealed off for reasons I couldn’t yet understand. How he had found his way to me (or perhaps I found my way to him) in the first place remained a mystery. But one thing was clear: the choice was now mine. I could unlock some of those systems, perhaps even all of them… or leave them sealed forever.

And without even realizing it, I had already to make the cogs turn. Storm had fed on me. That connection had already begun to change things—to unlock parts of him. Parts of me seemed to surface, as well.

At that moment, though, my thoughts weren’t on the mechanics of it all. They were on what I had seen—the memories, the past. Storm had once been feared, seen as a monster. But in the end, he had been cast aside, treated like something dangerous rather than something wronged. To me, he didn’t look like a monster anymore. He looked like a victim.

For the first time in a while, I wondered if he knew I was back. How he felt towards me.

For a while, I had been avoiding that question. Avoiding him. Avoiding my own feelings too, I suppose. Maybe it was fear. Maybe it was a habit. I had spent so much of my life running—from situations, from people, from myself. But I couldn’t keep doing that. Not anymore. I closed my eyes for a moment and focused on what I felt. On Storm. On the strange, undeniable bond between us.

“I’m not going to let anyone hurt you again,” I thought. “That’s what Sorvaa’hr, Reiken, and Alswaram would have wanted.”

The thought lingered. I couldn’t help but wonder… were they still in there somehow? Preserved, hidden deep within Storm’s databanks? Carefully, I folded Nathaniel’s letter and placed it back in the chest, along with the gear. I felt like it wasn’t time to touch any of it. Then I turned and began walking toward the large hangar and this time, my steps didn’t hesitate. For once in my life, I wasn’t running. I was ready to face whatever came next—to stand my ground, no matter the cost.

II : Reunion

I stood in front of the hangar for what felt like an eternity, my chest rising and falling in uneven, heavy breaths. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t steady myself. My heart was pounding so loudly it almost drowned out my thoughts. Fear, anticipation, guilt—they all tangled together inside me until I could barely tell them apart. Finally, I reached for the door and forced it open. It slid aside with a long, echoing groan, revealing only faint light inside. That dim glow was just enough to outline him—Storm. Towering. Immense. That same colossal, anthropomorphic, shark-shaped black mech, standing exactly where I remembered him.

Waiting. Or… not waiting at all. He didn’t move. I froze in the doorway, bracing myself. I had expected anger. Rage. I thought he might lash out, strike me down, crush me without hesitation. A part of me felt like I deserved it. But nothing happened. He just stood there. Silent. Still. Unmoving. The silence stretched on, suffocating.

“Storm…” My voice came out weaker than I wanted, trembling despite my effort to control it. “It’s me. Jon… I… I came back.” I swallowed hard, my throat tight. “Do you… hate me?”

Nothing. Not even the faintest response. The emptiness that followed hit harder than any blow ever could.

“Storm?” I called again, louder this time. Desperate. Still nothing. Panic began to creep in, cold and sharp. My mind spiraled. Had he shut down? Had I pushed him too far? Hurt him so deeply that he just… gave up?

“Storm!” My voice cracked as the fear surged. “Please—talk to me! I’m sorry! I’m so, so sorry I took so long…” The words started pouring out before I could stop them, raw and unfiltered. “I think I understand now—why you opened up to me. You saw it, didn’t you? You saw the activator in me…” My breath hitched. “I get it a little more now. And I was hoping… maybe you could help me understand the rest. Help me understand myself. Why I feel like this—even in my waking life. I was hoping… you could help me deal with it.” My voice faltered, breaking under the weight of everything I was feeling. “But if you don’t want anything to do with me anymore… I get it. Just—just tell me. I’ll leave. I won’t bother you again. I don’t want you to be hurting because of me.”

Silence. A crushing, unbearable silence.

And then—

“~ Pilot. ~”

That single word hit me like a shockwave. Being called again that shook me to my core.

“Storm…?” My eyes widened. “STORM!”

His optics flared to life, glowing in the darkness, and the relief that flooded through me was so overwhelming it almost knocked me off my feet. I didn’t think—I just moved. I ran to him and threw my arms around him as best as I could, pressing myself against his massive frame.

“You scared the hell out of me!” I choked out, my voice shaking. “I thought… I thought I broke you. That I hurt you so much you just… shut down…”

“~ Pilot. Breathe. ~”

I pulled back just enough to look up at him, my vision blurred with tears I couldn’t stop. They streamed down my face, my body trembling uncontrollably. It didn’t make sense. I didn’t understand why I felt this strongly—why this hurt so much more than anything I’d ever felt for another human being. And yet… it did. Storm’s voice echoed through the hangar again.

“~ Synchronize with me. ~”

My breath caught. “You… you still want me?” I asked, almost afraid of the answer. “You don’t think I’m a terrible activator?”

“~ You may be. But I will heal you, pilot. I will make you strong—if you accept yourself. ~”

His words should have stung. Instead, they grounded me. “Storm…” I hesitated, my voice soft, vulnerable. “Would you… do it like last time? With the wire hooks inside me?”

“~ Why would you want that? ~”

“I… I don’t know,” I admitted, my chest tightening again. “I just—need it. I need to feel you. I need you.”

There was a pause.

“~ You seem much stronger than before. ~”

“Maybe… I don’t know,” I said, shaking my head. “But I’ve seen things. I understand more now. And I know one thing for sure—no matter what anyone says, you are not a monster. I won’t let anyone call you that. I know what you really are.”

Another pause. Then—

“~ Very well. Let us commune, pilot. ~”

A loud hiss filled the hangar, echoing through the vast space. Without hesitation, I climbed up and into him, returning to the chamber where we had synchronized before. The air inside was dim and heavy. Familiar. I stepped into the pod-like structure, my pulse already racing.

“~ I reiterate, pilot: are you certain? ~”

I closed my eyes for a moment, steadying myself.

“Yeah,” I whispered. “I need this. And this time… I won’t pass out. I want to feel it. I want to be one with you… like them.”

“~ I see. Initiating conversion systems. ~”

A soft mechanical sound echoed—and then it began. One wire hook pierced into my back. I gasped sharply, my body jolting from the sudden, piercing sensation. Like a spinal needle, only much larger. Then another. And another. And a fourth. Each one forced a strained groan from my lips, my breath breaking into ragged gasps as I felt them sink in, felt the warmth of blood trailing down my skin. The sensation was overwhelming—sharp pain intertwined with something deeper, something almost intoxicating. My body didn’t know how to process it. Pain blurred into pleasure, discomfort into something I couldn’t name. Minutes passed—or maybe seconds. I couldn’t tell anymore. My head spun. My vision blurred. I was slipping but I fought it. I refused to pass out.

“Storm…” I managed, my voice barely more than a breath, trembling with a soft, involuntary moan.

“~ Pilot, your vitals are unstable. This is enough. ~”

The wires were about to retract. I cried out softly again—this time lower, heavier. “It’s… it’s okay,” I panted, struggling to steady myself. “It’s just my heart racing… Do you feel me?” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. “I feel you… everywhere. You feel impossibly good.”

“~ I do. Your energy is coursing through my systems. You must not overdo it. It will overwhelm you. ~”

“I want it to,” I said, almost breathless. “Maybe then I can stay inside you… like them. Sorvaa’hr. Reiken. Alswaram.”

A pause.

“~ You have seen this? ~”

“I have…”

“~ Then you understand what it means to be with me. ~”

“I don’t care!” The words burst out of me, raw and defiant. “You said you could heal me—and I believe you. I’m not going anywhere. I want to be a part of you. Just like they were.”

Another pause. Then, quieter—

“~ Your will is strong. Thank you, pilot. I will keep my word and heal you. ~”

I let out a shaky breath, a faint, exhausted smile breaking through.

“You’re welcome… beautiful one.”

For a moment, neither of us spoke. Then a thought surfaced. “Storm? How did you even get here?” I asked. “Last I knew… you threw yourself into a black hole.”

“~ The rules of time and space do not apply in lower metaphysical spheres. ~”

I blinked, trying to process that. “You mean… altered states? Dreams? Limbo? Swedenborgian space?”

“~ Correct. ~”

“I see…” I hesitated, then admitted quietly, “I felt bad about it. I also feel drawn to you. More than anyone else. More than my own kind.”

“~ By accepting what you are, you may also heal your waking self. ~”

“I hope so…” My voice softened. “Because right now, I still feel like a burden to him.”

“~ ‘Him’? ~”

“My mate,” I said quietly. “In my waking life.”

“~ If he chose you, then he saw what I see. ~”

I swallowed. “And what’s that?”

“~ Kindness. Unlimited potential. ~”

The words hit deeper than I expected.

“…Thank you, Storm.”

After a moment, I added softly, “Do you think I could… sleep here? Inside you?”

“~ You need only ask. Go to the piloting center. It will be more suitable. ~”

“…Alright,” I said, a small, tired smile forming. “Lead the way… Stormy.”

The nickname slipped out without thinking—but it felt right. Soft green lights flickered on, guiding me through the interior. I followed them into an elevator that carried me upward for what felt like forever, my body still buzzing from the synchronization. When the doors opened, I stepped into the familiar room—the one with the large central seat. I didn’t hesitate. I dropped into it, letting myself sink into the thick, impossibly soft padding. It wrapped around me, holding me, comforting me in a way nothing else ever had. Safer than anything I’d ever known. My eyes grew heavy. I didn’t realize it, but I was already digitalized at that point.

“Good night… beautiful Stormy,” I murmured, already drifting. “My partner.”

“~ Rest well, Jon. ~”

And just like that, I was gone—pulled into sleep almost instantly, my body and mind finally giving in, not waking again until morning.

III : Extended family

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The following night, I went to sleep expecting comfort—expecting familiarity. I thought I would wake up inside Storm again, wrapped in that strange, overwhelming sense of safety he gave me… or at the very least, somewhere close to him. I couldn’t have been more wrong. I woke abruptly in my dreamstate to the sound of shouting—sharp, insistent, and unmistakably directed at me.

“Wake up, Terran. Wake up, I tell you!”

My eyes snapped open, only to be met with a large blue muzzle hovering inches from my face. I jolted upright with a startled gasp, nearly smashing straight into it. My heart leapt into my throat as I scrambled back, trying to process what I was seeing. I was sitting in a familiar kind of seat—some sort of pilot’s seat—but everything felt… off. Different. In front of me stood a towering, royal-blue, muscular half-dragon, his tail flicking impatiently behind him, his charismatic posture radiating irritation. He let out an exaggerated sigh.

“About time…!”

Still disoriented, I looked around frantically, trying to get my bearings. The structure felt similar to Storm’s interior—but it wasn’t the same. The layout, the lighting… everything had this strange, almost ethereal quality to it.

“Wait…” I muttered, my voice unsteady. “This isn’t Storm’s cockpit…”

“Of course it’s not,” he snapped, crossing his arms. “This is Storm’s digital conversion matrix. An alternate reality he fabricates for those who synchronize with him.” He gave me a long, unimpressed look. “You’re a bit slow, aren’t you? Don’t you realize you were converted? Though I suppose I’ve grown used to Terrans taking their time catching up.” Then his gaze dropped—and his expression twisted into something between confusion and disbelief. “And what exactly are you wearing? You’re basically naked!”

“Hey, I’m not—” I started defensively, before the realization hit me all at once. My eyes widened. “Oh—oh shit… you’re… Al?” Everything else faded for a moment. There was no mistaking him. Alswaram. Not a memory. Not a fragment. Not a distant echo from a flashback. He was right there, in front of me—solid, vivid, real. His presence was overwhelming in a completely different way than Storm’s. Taller than I imagined. Stronger. Radiating confidence and warmth all at once. And, to my embarrassment, much more attractive up close than I had ever expected. And I had just called him Al. Great. Perfect. Fantastic first impression.

“Right,” he said, raising a brow. “So you clearly know who I am. Storm warned me about that. Sorry to disappoint, but I have absolutely no idea who you are.”

“I—right! Sorry!” I stammered, scrambling to my feet. “Commander Alswaram, sir—I didn’t mean any disrespect!”

I bowed awkwardly—too fast, too stiff, completely ungraceful. What a disgrace. He stared at me for half a second, then burst out laughing uncontrollably.

“Wow—you’re serious?” he said between laughs. “Relax! You don’t need to bow! I’m not anyone’s commander anymore. And that bow…” He shook his head, still chuckling. “That was something else altogether.”

Heat rushed to my face, embarrassment hitting me full force—but somehow, it didn’t feel bad. If anything, it grounded me. “I know,” I muttered. “It just… felt right. It’s an honor to meet you.”

“It is?” he asked, tilting his head.

“Yes! You’re—well—you’re kind of a legend. At least in my eyes!”

He snorted. “Legend might be a stretch. ‘Machine lover’ is what I usually get.”

“Well, Sorvaa’hr would probably say that,” I shot back without thinking. “But Lancer would give him hell for it.”

That got a real laugh out of him—loud, genuine, full of life. “You’re definitely right about that!” he said, grinning. Then his expression shifted slightly, curiosity creeping in. “Wait… you know Lancer?”

“Sort of,” I said. “I’ve seen him… in flashbacks.” I hesitated, then added, “You have one hell of a partner.”

His smile softened, tinged with something deeper. “Had… but yeah. The best.” He paused, something vulnerable flickering in his eyes. “Do you know if he’s… okay?”

“I think so,” I said gently. “Last I saw, he was with Raven. After that… I don’t know. But I don’t think he’s gone.”

He exhaled slowly, like he’d been holding that breath for a long time. “Good… that’s good.”

There was a brief silence. Then, before I could overthink it—

“Hey… Al?” I said, hesitating. “This is probably weird, but… can I, like, hug you?”

He blinked. “I mean… sure. But why?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted, my voice softening. “I just… feel like I’m supposed to. Sai’s kind of like my big sister now, so… you feel like family. Like a big brother I never had.” That immediately got his full attention.

“Wait—you know Sai too?” His eyes widened. “Yeah, no—we’re talking. Right now.”

And so I told him everything. Everything I knew. Everything I had seen. About Saimi, her trials, her strength, what she had become. As I spoke, I saw it—the shift in him. The tension easing. The weight lifting. And then, suddenly— He pulled me into a tight embrace. I froze for half a second, caught off guard—then melted into it. He was warm. Solid. Real in a way that grounded me completely. I felt him tremble slightly as he let out a quiet, broken breath—and then he started to cry. Softly. I did too. Relief. Pure, overwhelming relief. I held onto him, my arms tightening instinctively. His scent—motor oil with a faint hint of sulfur—wrapped around me, strangely comforting, familiar in a way I couldn’t explain. And just like that… he trusted me, just like Saimi had.

“Hey… Alswaram?” I said quietly after a while. “Are Sorvaa’hr and Reiken here too?”

He pulled back slightly, wiping his eyes. “Just Al, ok?” he corrected gently. “And yeah—they’re here. You said you saw everything, right? Up until the very end?”

“Yeah…” My chest tightened. “It… hurt. I have no words for it. It felt like… like a part of me died when it ended. I can’t even explain it.”

His expression softened with sympathy. “I’m truly sorry you had to go through that,” he said. “But… you should take some comfort in this. You brought us back. Even if it’s only here in your dreamspace… we exist again because of you.”

I swallowed hard. “…You’re right,” I admitted. “Having you and Storm—it helps. It gives me something to hold onto. Makes my waking life a little less miserable.” I hesitated. “…Even if I’m still a complete failure as an activator.”

“Hey, now.” His tone sharpened slightly. “Why would you say that?”

“Because I am,” I said, frustration bubbling up. “I feel broken. My body in the real world is too weak. I feel everything—the desires, the instincts—but I can’t act on them. It’s like being trapped in the wrong version of myself.” My voice dropped. “I feel like a freak.”

His gaze didn’t waver. “You’re not a freak,” he said firmly. “Yeah, your physical body has limits—but that doesn’t erase what you are. You still feel it. You still connect to it. That matters.”

I looked down, uncertain. “I mean… yeah,” I admitted. “I get flashes of it. A rush from a sleek engine. Revving sounds. Even the smell of raw fluids and exhaust—it hits me in a way I can’t explain.”

He smirked. “Yeah… you definitely sound like an activator.”

“…Do I?” I asked, almost hopeful.

“Oh, absolutely,” he said with a chuckle.

I let out a small laugh, tension easing slightly.

“Emerald gave me one hell of a rush,” I admitted. “Storm too… though he kind of overwhelmed me...”

“Hah! Yeah, that sounds about right,” he said. “You would’ve loved Lancer. His scent alone drove people insane. Deep, earthy, powerful… and that voice of his?” He smiled faintly. “I always felt safe with him. I had a… traumatic time when I was a whelp. Until I met him. Lancer brought me out of my shell, healed my aggression and made me into what I am. You know, they called Lancer the ‘Gallant Knight’ and I called him that too.”

“I can see that from him,” I said quietly. “Even in the flashbacks, Lancer was so attractive, calm and reassuring. I also feel something similar with Storm, believe it or not. He’s… intense. A little scary. But I feel safe with Storm too. And what he makes me feel…” I trailed off, shaking my head. “It’s unreal.” Do you miss him…? Lancer, I mean.

“Of course. It kind of hurts to think about it.”

I hesitated, then asked— “What if I could bring Lancer here? Do you think he’d… accept me?”

He chuckled softly. “I doubt it’s that simple or even possible at all,” he said. “But… I appreciate that you’d even think of it.” Then he smirked. “Though from the way you’re talking about Lancer… sounds like my little brother’s getting the hots for him.”

I immediately turned bright red. “M-maybe a little…”

“Well,” he teased, “maybe he could turn you from a third-rate activator into that ‘legend’ you were talking about.”

I groaned, hiding my face as he laughed playfully at my expense. His soft nuzzles were so tender, so loving. Despite the teasing… I felt safe. Open. Accepted. Just like with Saimi. I leaned into him again, nuzzling lightly against his chest. I think I may have sneaked in a soft kiss. His warmth, his scent—it grounded me completely. I breathed him in deeply, my body relaxing in a way I hadn’t realized I needed. And before I could stop myself, the words slipped out—soft, honest, unfiltered—

“Thank you… big bro…”

_ _

And just like that— I woke up back in my bed with my heart racing and body burning up. Desire hitting me all at once, intense and impossible to ignore. How would I even deal with Reiken if Al already made me so bothered?

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The next day dragged on like an endless chore session. All I wanted was to crawl back into bed and slip away into the dreamstate again. When night finally came, I lay there in the dark, forcing myself to breathe slowly. I meditated, trying to center my thoughts on Lancer—on everything I knew about him, on how desperately I wanted him beside us… how much I simply wanted him.

The shame hit me hard. I felt dirty for even thinking it. Here I was, someone who always ponders over my carbon footprint, who couldn’t finish a single documentary about oceanic pollution and whale hunting without tearing up, now secretly craving machines—massive, sentient, powerful machines. I tried to push the thought down, to deny the heat that pooled low in my belly whenever I pictured sleek metal and glowing interfaces, but the denial only made the ache sharper. When I finally crossed over into the dreamstate, much to my disappointment, Lancer was nowhere to be found. Instead, a different—and almost equally imposing—figure waited for me.

The tiger shark stood motionless, watching me with piercing, predatory eyes that seemed to cut straight through flesh and bone. I froze where I stood, heart hammering. Half of me wanted to bolt. The other half… the other half was drowning in raw, undeniable arousal. He was beautiful. Charismatic in a way that felt dangerous, fearsome and powerfully built, every line of him radiating controlled strength.

“So,” he rumbled, voice low and laced with amusement, “are you going to stare like that all day, Terran?”

“Reiken?!” The name burst out of me. “Oh my god… you’re really here. Seeing you like this is… scary. But also kinda hot… crap.” I winced, heat flooding my face. “I’m making a fool of myself again. Sorry…”

I knew I would meet him eventually, but nothing prepared me for the sheer intensity of it. Up close he was even more breathtaking—tall, broad, every inch the apex predator. I’d expected anger, or at least wariness. Instead, he tilted his head and flashed a wide, toothy grin that made me understand immediately why Sorvaa’hr called him “toothy.”

“I see you already know me,” he said, sounding almost pleased. “Al told me as much. Last I checked, it’s really me—though Al says we’re technically not really here. Something about being inside your dreams? And still inside Storm too? I’m not good with all that metaphysical stuff.”

“Y-yeah… I’ll explain everything in time,” I managed. “Speaking of which, where’s Al?”

“Still sleeping. He’s a late sleeper… and that’s putting it mildly.”

“Oh. I see.”

I couldn’t stop looking at him. His massive frame, the sleek shark traits, the raw power in every movement—it inspired equal parts fear and respect. My voice came out small. “You look so… fearsome.”

“Is that why you’re standing there frozen, little human?” There was a teasing edge to his tone now, warm rather than mocking.

“Maybe a little,” I admitted, cheeks burning. “But also because… I’m kind of struck by how beautiful you are up close like this.”

The words slipped out before I could stop them. I gasped, mortified at my own honesty. Saimi’s influence was clearly stronger than I wanted to admit. I was growing bolder. Reiken blinked once, then let out a deep, rumbling chuckle. He reached out with one large, finned hand and gently petted the top of my head, the touch surprisingly careful.

“Why, thank you,” he said, clearly amused. “Alswaram already speaks highly of you. So… you like us Hilandrans that much, hm?”

I barely managed a stuttering “M-Maybe,” my face now flaming crimson. How did he know? Had Alswaram really sold me out? I hadn’t even told Al that much about my deeper feelings… and I definitely wasn’t planning to mention Nevlaan.

Reiken laughed again, the sound rich and easy. “Heh. Wondering how I knew you like me, right?”

I nodded, still blushing furiously.

“Don’t worry, I’m no diviner. You synchronized with Storm. When you did that, we gained access to your full profile—physical data, psychological profile, emotional map, even a basic outline of your… preferences. A ‘like/dislike’ list, if you will. I took a look. Turns out you have quite the fondness for my kind. For the Kelva, too.”

“Y-yeah…” I mumbled, mortified. “Sharks and orcas. I’ve always been into marine creatures. Sorry if that sounds creepy…”

“Don’t panic. It’s all good.” He sounded genuinely flattered. “Usually we Hilandrans get written off as nothing but brutes built for combat. Nice to be seen differently for once.”

“That’s just stupid!” I said, finding a bit more courage. “You’re incredibly handsome. And charismatic. Godly, almost. Just standing here with you… I already feel completely safe. Even if I’m still a little intimidated…”

His grin softened. “Why? Because you’re afraid of me… or because you like me as more than just ‘handsome’?”

I swallowed hard. “…Well, shit. I’m that easy to read, huh?”

“’Fraid so.” He didn’t sound upset at all. “But don’t worry. I’m not bothered. It’s actually really nice to feel wanted by someone who isn’t Al or Sorv, for a change.”

“Hehe… they’re lucky. To have you, I mean.”

“Well, you have me too now,” he said simply. “We’re all Storm’s watchers. His pilots. You are too, now.”

“Yeah… thank you, Reiken. You’re so sweet.”

I was fighting the urge to throw my arms around him when, to my surprise, he took the initiative. He stepped forward and pulled me into a tight hug, squeezing me against his massive chest. The pressure was so intense I thought my ribs might creak, but I loved every second of it. He was several feet taller than me, his body a wall of warm, solid muscle. His skin wasn’t the rough sandpaper I’d imagined—it felt smooth and almost rubbery, surprisingly pleasant. And his scent… not fishy at all. Briny, with a faint trace of kelp and a warm, spicy undertone that made my head spin. I could get used to this, I thought hazily.

He seemed to sense how much I wanted to stay close, because he kept holding me, long past what would have been polite. My mind drifted dangerously to what I’d glimpsed of him with Alswaram—those claspers—and heat flared through me again. Before I could pull away, Reiken slowly released the hug, but he didn’t step back. Instead, he watched me with that same calm, knowing gaze.

My hands, still trembling slightly from the embrace, moved almost of their own accord. I reached out, hesitantly tracing the broad edges of his chest, feeling the powerful muscle beneath the smooth, rubbery skin and cartilage. Reiken stayed perfectly still, letting me explore. My fingers drifted lower, mapping the strong lines of his abdomen, the subtle ridges where his shark-like traits blended into something more alien and fascinating. And sexy. Then it happened—my hand brushed against something warmer, smoother, and unmistakably sensitive just below his waist. Two thick, fleshy structures, partially retracted but unmistakably there. Reiken’s claspers.

I froze, mortified, but I couldn’t make myself pull away immediately. They felt surprisingly soft and warm under my fingertips, with a faint, velvety texture that made my pulse thunder in my ears. A rush of heat flooded through me so intensely I had to bite my lip to keep from making a sound. My face burned crimson as vivid, unwanted images flashed through my mind—what they might look like fully extended, how they might feel, what it would be like if—

Reiken didn’t flinch or pull back. Instead, he let out a low, amused rumble, his voice dropping into something huskier. “Curious, are we?”

“I—I’m sorry,” I stammered, voice barely above a whisper, yet my fingers lingered for another heartbeat, tracing one gentle, exploratory stroke along the length of one before I finally forced my hand away. “I didn’t mean to— I just… they’re…”

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest. “It’s alright, Jon. You can touch if you want. I don’t mind.”

The permission only made it worse. My breath hitched, a fresh wave of arousal crashing over me as I imagined going further, exploring more deliberately. I felt utterly exposed, my body reacting far too strongly to the simple contact and his calm acceptance. My heart raced, thighs pressing together instinctively as I tried—and failed—to steady myself.

Reiken’s piercing eyes softened with quiet amusement and something warmer. “Easy there, little human. You’re getting very bothered over there.”

“I… yeah,” I admitted shakily, unable to meet his gaze. “Very bothered.”

My hand hovered uncertainly in the air between us. The brief contact had left my fingertips tingling with an electric kind of warmth. Reiken didn’t move away. If anything, he shifted his stance slightly, giving me more room, his massive frame relaxed but attentive.

“Go on,” he murmured, voice low and steady, like distant thunder over water. “You can look. You can touch. I told you — I don’t mind.”

The confirmation sent another rush of heat through me. I swallowed hard and let my gaze drop lower again. The two claspers rested along the inner edges of his pelvic region, partially retracted against his body but still prominent. They were thicker than I’d expected — each one roughly the length of my forearm, though currently not fully extended. The skin covering them was the same smooth, rubbery texture as the rest of him, but softer here, almost velvety, with a subtle warmth that radiated into my palm as I hesitantly brushed my fingers along one again.

They felt… alive. Firm yet yielding beneath the surface, supported by something rigid like cartilage that gave them structure without making them completely stiff. A shallow groove ran along the upper side of each, smooth and slightly moist to the touch, leading from a small opening near the base toward the tip. The tips themselves were rounded and a little more tapered, with faint ridges that hinted at how they might change shape when… active.

I traced the groove lightly with one fingertip, fascinated despite the embarrassment burning in my cheeks. Reiken’s breathing deepened just a fraction — not a gasp, but enough to tell me he felt it. A low, approving rumble vibrated in his chest.

“They’re… modified pelvic fins, right,” I whispered, half to myself, half to him, remembering fragments of what I’d glimpsed or been told. “But they feel so much warmer and softer than the rest of you. So gorgeous…”

“Mmm. They are,” he confirmed, the hint of a grin in his voice. “Cartilage inside, but the outer layers are sensitive. Lots of nerves. Blood flow changes when they’re… needed.”

My face flamed hotter. I let my hand explore further, cupping the side of one clasper gently. It twitched faintly under my touch — not violently, but enough to make my pulse spike. The texture shifted subtly as I stroked along its length: smoother near the base, with a faint pattern of tiny, flexible ridges toward the middle that reminded me of gill slits or the subtle texture of shark skin, but far gentler. At the very tip, I could feel a slight flexibility, as if the structure could splay or open slightly, like petals or an umbrella mechanism.

“They’re paired,” Reiken added softly, almost educational, though the husky undertone made it anything but clinical. “Usually only one is used at a time. The groove channels everything… precisely.”

I nodded dumbly, barely processing the words at this point. My thumb brushed over the groove again, following its path, and I felt a faint pulsation — warmth, a hint of internal movement. The contact sent a sharp throb of arousal straight through me. My thighs pressed together instinctively as heat pooled low in my belly, my breath coming shorter. I was getting hard just from this — from touching something so intimate, on a body that already was godly material to me and overwhelmed me with its size and power.

“They’re beautiful,” I breathed, voice cracking. “I didn’t expect them to feel so… alive. So warm.”

Reiken chuckled again, the sound gentle. One of his large finned hands came to rest lightly on my shoulder, not guiding, just steadying. “Most Terrans would have pulled away by now.”

“Then they don’t deserve your beauty! I… I can’t seem to stop,” I confessed, mortified and exhilarated at once. My fingers curled loosely around the side of the other clasper now, comparing the two. They were symmetrical, heavy with potential, and the simple act of holding one made my mind race with images I tried (and failed) to suppress — how they might look when fully erect and extended, how they might feel anchoring, filling, claiming.

Without thinking, I sank slowly to my knees in front of him, eyes locked on the twin structures. Reiken made no move to stop me. If anything, his stance widened just enough to invite me closer. My hands trembled as I cradled both claspers now, one in each palm, feeling their weight and warmth. They were heavier than they looked, pulsing faintly with his heartbeat.

I leaned in, pressing my lips reverently to the smooth side of the left one. The taste was subtle at first — clean, faintly briny like ocean air after a storm, with that same warm, spicy undertone that clung to his skin. I kissed it again, slower this time, letting my tongue trace the velvety surface along the groove. The texture was incredible — soft yet firm, the faint ridges catching lightly on my tongue.

A low groan rumbled from Reiken’s chest. “Jon…”

The sound only encouraged me. I grew bolder, worshipping them with slow, devoted licks and kisses. I mapped every inch: the smooth base, the ridged middle, the slightly more flexible tip. I ran my tongue along the groove of one, then the other, savoring the faint, clean saltiness and the way they twitched and heated under my attention. My own arousal was throbbing now, almost painful in its intensity. I felt dizzy with it — kneeling before this massive, powerful shark, lavishing attention on the most intimate part of him like it was something sacred.

Reiken’s large hand settled gently on the back of my head, not forcing, just resting there with surprising tenderness. I whimpered against him, pressing open-mouthed kisses along both claspers in turn, alternating between them as if I couldn’t decide which deserved more devotion. My hands stroked what my mouth couldn’t reach, gentle but eager. The taste, the warmth, the subtle flex under my tongue — it was overwhelming. I wanted more. I wanted to take them deeper, to feel them respond fully, to lose myself completely in him. Suddenly, Reiken’s fingers tightened ever so slightly in my hair, guiding me to pull back just enough to look up at him. His eyes were darker now, pupils wide, yet he still held perfect control. I wasn’t sure if he was scared to erupt all over me or if he wanted to tease me.

“Enough for tonight,” he said, voice low and commanding, though a playful edge remained. “You’ve got me worked up, Jon. But we’re not going all the way here… not yet.”

I whined softly, lips still glistening, chest heaving with unspent need. My body screamed for continuation, but his words cut through the haze with gentle finality. “Promise me something,” he continued, thumb brushing my swollen lower lip. “Next time we’re alone like this… you won’t stop halfway. You’ll go all the way with me. I’ll show you exactly what these are for.”

My heart hammered. The thought sent another helpless wave of arousal through me, making me shiver. I nodded quickly, voice barely a whisper. “Fuck yes! I… I promise, Reiken.”

He smiled, that wide, toothy grin flashing again, but this time it was laced with heat and satisfaction. “Good boy.” Reiken helped me to my feet, pulling me back against his chest in another crushing-yet-tender hug. I could feel the lingering tension in his body — the evidence that I’d affected him just as deeply — but he simply held me, letting the moment settle. What an amazing encounter. I was still beyond worked up when Reiken spoke up again.

“I couldn’t let you climax just yet. Sorv wouldn’t let me hear the end of it. He’s is going to be all over you…”

“Sorv…?” My stomach twisted. “Oh shit. I forgot he’d be here too…”

Reiken tilted his head, curious. “Why the odd tone? You… don’t like him?”

“Well… from what I’ve seen, he’s harsh. Violent.”

“You’ve only seen one side of him, friend. Sorv is deeply caring. He would give his life for those he loves without hesitation. But yes—if you mess with his people, he will fuck you up.”

“Yeah… I got that impression.”

Reiken’s tone shifted, turning playful and teasing. “You’ll be glad to hear he has a soft spot for your species.”

“My species…? So, he likes humans?” That sounds almost like crazy talk to me. Choosing a human when you have Reiken and Alswaram around? That sounded like heresy to me, truth be told.

“More than ‘likes’. Also… he’s very dominant. He’ll make that clear very, very quickly. But don’t let that scare you. He will make you feel like no one else can.”

It hit me then how much more Reiken already seemed to know about me than I knew about him. I was submissive by nature. I craved that feeling of safety, of being able to drop my guard completely and let someone strong take the lead. It was why I’d always been secretly drawn to soldier types—powerful, protective alpha males. Standing here with Reiken, it felt like I’d stumbled into some kind of jackpot. Over time I’d built this strange, beautiful alternate family: a brother and sister in Alswaram and Saimi, a father figure in Nevlaan, even a mechanical “mother” in Emerald. Now Reiken felt like the ultimate bodyguard… and maybe something more.

But Sorvaa’hr? He still terrified me. Even knowing he was a brilliant tactician and a clear alpha male archetype, his recklessness and zero-tolerance attitude left me uneasy. I needed predictability. I needed to feel like I was several steps ahead. With Sorv, I felt completely exposed—like I had nothing on him, no way to understand or anticipate him. All I saw was a violent, dangerous dragon. And after what he’d done to anyone who had hurt Reiken… I wasn’t sure I could fully trust him.

“Jon? You’re lost in thought again.”

“Oh—! S-sorry, Reiken.” I rubbed the back of my neck.

“Heh heh, no worries.” His grin was warm. “I could tell you were a quite a bit flustered when you first saw me.”

“You’re really hard not to get flustered over! And to answer your question…” I hesitated, then admitted it quietly. “I was thinking about Sorvaa’hr… He scares me.”

Reiken’s grin turned playful, almost mischievous. “Does he? You should go see him. First room on the right when you step out of this room. He’s probably doing his research on you right now, getting more and more frustrated because he’s finding next to nothing.”

“I thought you said you guys can find out everything about me?”

Reiken chuckled. “I’m always one step ahead. That’s why he keeps me around. Sorv’s not that patient. Also, because I kick ass. It helps.”

We both laughed, the sound easing some of the tension in my chest. Reiken made me feel safe in a way I hadn’t expected. He pulled me into another warm, crushing hug, and before I could overthink it, I leaned up and planted a soft kiss on the side of his beak. “Thanks for being so wonderful,” I murmured.

“Thanks for being so kind to me,” he replied, voice warm. “Don’t be afraid of Sorv. He barks loud but he rarely bites. Unless it’s a love bite.”

He flashed that wide, toothy grin again, and a shiver ran down my spine. Strangely, I didn’t entirely hate the thought. I rubbed his beak gently; he responded by ruffling my hair with his large finned hand. With one last reassuring look, I turned and left the room — my own safe little pocket inside Storm’s digital conversion matrix.

The corridor looked almost identical to the one I’d seen earlier inside Storm: sleek, faintly glowing walls and that strange sense of being both vast and intimate at once. I stopped in front of the first door on the right, heart pounding. I raised my hand to knock, but the door slid open on its own with a soft hiss, startling me. No time to turn tail and run. I stepped inside slowly and there he was — the familiar black dragon, leaning back in a chair with casual arrogance, his large four-toed clawed feet propped up on the table. He was reading what looked like a dossier, grumbling in clear irritation. The silence felt suffocating, so I broke it with a shaky voice.

“H-Hello…”

A heavy sigh escaped him.

“S-Sorvaa’hr…Sir?”

“I’m not deaf, you know.”

“S-Sorry, Sir…”

I didn’t know what else to do, so I ended up saluting awkwardly. Sorvaa’hr scoffed loudly and tossed the folder onto the table with a slap.

“Instead of making awkward salutes and treating me like I’m some big-shot military personnel, you should probably just relax and breathe,” he growled. “We’re not in the Sirian forces anymore. Now get in here and sit.”

I didn’t dare talk back. I crossed the room on unsteady legs and lowered myself into the chair opposite him. Sorvaa’hr dropped his feet to the floor and leaned forward, his sharp golden eyes scanning me from head to toe like he was sizing up prey. He whistled.

“Damn. That picture in the file is complete shit,” he muttered. “Storm, get better pictures next time, for fuck’s sake.”

~ I will keep that in mind, Sorvaa’hr. ~

“So, you’re Jon,” he said, voice rough but direct. “I’m Sorvaa’hr. Nice to meet you.”

“S-Same…”

He kept staring, his gaze heavy and unrelenting. I felt incredibly small and exposed under it. “S-Sorry for the poor getup and everything,” I mumbled. “I always wake up in dreams like this. If you have any spare gear, I can put on something more appropriate—”

He growled, low and amused, cutting me off. “Fuck no. The best way to have your kind is with the least amount of shit on as possible.” His eyes darkened with clear hunger. “Your kind tastes better without any alterations.” My heart skipped a painful beat. Was he literally planning to eat me for lunch?

“Umm… what do you mean, exactly?”

“What do you mean, ‘what do I mean’?” he snapped, irritation mixing with heat. “I’m saying your kind look better naked. Now get that shit off.”

“Say what…? We just met! Also… I’m not exactly a prime example of my species.”

“Don’t mess with me!” Sorvaa’hr snarled, rising from his chair. “You already saw everything there is to know about me through Storm. I don’t give a fuck about this ‘metempsychosis’ nonsense — that’s way out of my league. What I do give a fuck about is that I finally have you here, and I’m worked up as hell after all this time. Machine-lover said you’re into our species. So hurry the fuck up and get yourself proper so I can have you.”

“And if I say no?”

It was the wrong thing to say. Sorvaa’hr’s growl deepened, vibrating through the room. Smoke curled from his nostrils as he stalked toward me, eyes blazing with something between fury and raw lust. I shrank back into the chair, but there was nowhere to go. In one fluid motion he reached down and tore my boxers clean off with a loud, violent rip, the fabric shredding like paper in his claws.

I gasped, suddenly completely exposed and shivering. Before I could even process it, he hauled me up from the chair, swept the folder off the table with one arm, and laid me flat on my back across the cool surface. His massive frame loomed over me as he growled lustfully, hot breath snorting against my neck. It smelled strangely sweet — burning wood mixed with the raw, carnal scent of a predator.

“Don’t ever question my orders like that again,” he rumbled, voice thick. “If you’re going to be with me here, you’re going to learn your place. You may be one of Storm’s pilots, but you sure as shit aren’t going to impress me with that weak, self-loathing bullshit.”

“S-Sorry… and I’m not that great looking—”

“Shut the fuck up!” he barked. “I don’t ever want to hear that kind of self-loathing shit come out of your mouth again. Am I clear?”

“Y-Yes…”

“Good.” His expression shifted into something darker, hungrier. “Now, I’m going to have to clean that foul mouth of yours.”

I tensed, half-expecting teeth or fire, but instead he leaned down and crushed his mouth against mine in a deep, intense kiss. He tasted exactly like his scent — musky, woody, and slightly bitter, with a surprising heat that made my head spin. His tongue invaded without hesitation, claiming every inch as he kissed me hard and thorough. When he finally pulled back, I was panting, lips swollen, and embarrassingly hard.

“There. Clean mouth,” he said with a satisfied smirk. “Now, I better not hear any more of that shit from you. Got it, sexy?”

“Y-You really think I’m good looking?”

“For fuck’s sake — are you doing this on purpose?” His eyes flashed. “Because if I have to strip off my gear and pound your ass until you can’t walk straight, then cum all over you just to teach you a lesson, I will.”

“Y-You wouldn’t!”

Second mistake. I was already painfully worked up, my face burning beet red as Sorvaa’hr growled low in his throat. His muzzle hovered inches from my nose, hot breath washing over my skin in heavy waves. I felt like a raw recruit facing a drill sergeant, except this sergeant was stupidly, dangerously hot, and some part of me was loving every second of his dominant edge. My fear was rapidly melting into raw, intense lust. My submissive nature simply yielded, melting under the overwhelming presence of this strong, unyielding top.

“You want to test me, you little shit?” he snarled, voice thick with promise. “I already made it crystal clear to Rei and the machine-lover — your ass is mine. And I damn well plan on claiming it.”

He stepped back just enough to strip off his vest and gear with sharp, efficient movements. Jacket, shirt, belt — each piece hit the floor until his powerful torso was bare. His body was incredible: the hardened, battle-forged physique of a seasoned soldier — chiseled, impressively buff, with dense muscle that spoke of raw strength rather than showy definition. My mouth went dry.

Sorvaa’hr grabbed my wrist and guided my hand firmly to the front of his pants, which were straining obscenely, the fabric threatening to split. “Take them off,” he ordered. I obeyed slowly, savoring the moment despite my trembling fingers. There was a strange flicker of power in the deliberate pace — watching his control fray just a little as I peeled the pants down his muscular thighs. Kelva apparently didn’t bother with underwear. The moment the fabric cleared his hips, a thick, heady musk filled the air: deep burning wood, spice, and something undeniably masculine. His large cock slid free from its internal slit — red-orange, ridged like a saurian’s, already fully erect and dripping clear fluid from the tip.

Reason abandoned me completely. I sank to my knees without thinking, drawn helplessly into his dominant aura. I breathed in his scent deeply, letting it cloud my mind, before my hands wrapped around his thick shaft. I stroked him slowly, reverently, from base to flared tip. Sorvaa’hr let out a deep, raspy growl I’d never heard from him before — raw and hungry. “Yeah… you like that, don’t you?”

“Y-Yeah…” I whispered, voice shaking with need. “I’ll worship it. Worship you.”

“Good answer. You’d better take real good care of it.”

I leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the leaking tip, then took as much of him into my mouth as I could manage. His musk grew thicker, more intoxicating with every slow bob of my head. He rewarded me with lustful growls and low snorts, occasional small puffs of smoke curling from his nostrils — somehow both cute and incredibly hot at the same time. His large hand settled on the back of my head, guiding my rhythm, praising me in that rough, raspy tone as he ordered me to suck harder.

It didn’t take long. He was clearly pent-up. His cock throbbed heavily against my tongue, his thighs quivering. With a sudden roar that shook the room, he threw his head back, hips jerking as his cock flared. I braced myself and swallowed frantically as hot, thick seed flooded my throat. The sheer intensity pushed me over the edge too — I came hard without even touching myself, spilling across the floor with a muffled whimper.

Sorvaa’hr’s nostrils flared at the scent of my release. Before I could finish cleaning him with gentle licks, he hauled me back up to my feet and pulled me against his chest, staring down at me with an intense, burning gaze that made me shudder and blush even harder. I almost expected reprimand… or worse.

“I-I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to cum so fast! I-I just got so worked up…”

He growled softly — this time warm rather than angry — and held me closer. A deep, satisfied purr rumbled through his broad chest. He nipped gently at my neck and shoulder blades, murmuring my name in a way that felt surprisingly tender. In that moment, I glimpsed a softer side of Sorvaa’hr I hadn’t expected. It wouldn’t be the last time.

“We’re both guilty of being horny as hell, so you get off easy this time,” he rumbled, lips brushing my ear. “Next time, though… you’d better not shoot your load until you’re buried deep inside me.”

“S-Sounds good to me, blackie.” The word slipped out tentatively. “I-I can call you that, right…?”

“Fucking yes,” he said without hesitation. “Master, love, blackie… anything you want, little one.”

This time I initiated the kiss. He met me eagerly, tongue claiming mine with the same fierce hunger. When I tried to pull back for air, he wouldn’t let me — keeping me pressed close until I finally relaxed and rested my head against the crook of his neck. I listened to his deep, contented purr while breathing in his warm, smoky scent. His hand wandered lower, smearing his sticky cum across my ass in slow, deliberate strokes — clearly marking me as his.

I stayed there for a long moment, basking in the warmth of his body and the surprisingly gentle way he held me. Then a shy, risky idea bubbled up. My voice came out small and hesitant.

“Hey, blackie…?”

“Hm?”

I swallowed, cheeks still flushed. “Could you… exhale some of your draconic smoke against me? Just… breathe it on me?”

Sorvaa’hr pulled back slightly, golden eyes widening in genuine surprise. For a second he just stared at me, as if trying to process the request. Then a slow, predatory grin spread across his muzzle, heat flickering in his gaze.

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you, little love?” he murmured, voice dropping into something darker and rougher. “Didn’t expect that from a soft Terran like you.” He didn’t refuse, though. One large, clawed hand cupped the back of my head, holding me steady as he leaned in close again. His chest expanded with a slow, deliberate breath. Then he exhaled.

Thick, warm musky smoke curled from his nostrils and parted jaws, washing over my face and neck in heavy, fragrant waves. It carried the rich scent of burning wood, spice, and something ancient and primal— like smoldering embers mixed with his own musk. The heat wasn’t painful; it was a deep, tingling warmth that sank into my skin and made my nerve endings flare. I shivered hard, a soft, involuntary moan escaping me as the smoke wrapped around me like a living caress. It made my spent cock twitch again with renewed interest, pleasure blooming low in my belly from the sheer intimacy and alien sensation.

Sorvaa’hr’s eyes darkened with clear arousal as he watched my reaction. His purr deepened into a low, hungry growl. “Fuck… look at you,” he rasped, sounding both surprised and unmistakably turned on. “Getting off on my smoke like that. You really are a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

I could only nod weakly, eyes half-lidded, letting another soft sound of pleasure slip out as he exhaled again, slower this time, letting the smoke linger and curl down over my chest. The combination of his scent, his heat, and the visible lust in his eyes left me dizzy and floating. He chuckled darkly, clearly enjoying the effect he had on me. “We’re definitely exploring that more next time.”

“Mmm… definitely. Hey, blackie…?”

“What now?”

“Will you… protect me?”

“Yeah,” he replied instantly. “The minute you laid your hands on me, you were under my protection. Rei and the machine-lover will help too, but I’ll make damn sure nothing happens to you. If someone messes with you, they’d better run. And when I catch up… they’ll face the wrath of Milla.”

“Who’s Milla…?”

He nodded toward the large, formidable rifle leaning against the wall. I remembered from the flashbacks. Before, I might have found it strange to name a gun. Now, as an activator, it felt completely normal.

“Oh… I see. Milla’s really cool.”

“You don’t find it weird?”

“Nope. I’m a machine lover too, so I know exactly how that feels.”

“Don’t call yourself that,” he said, a hint of a frown in his tone. “It’s pejorative. I call Al that out of brotherly respect — it’s a military thing. Same reason I call Reiken ‘toothy.’ But if anyone else calls you or Al that shit… I’ll bite their heads off.”

“Oh… hehe.” I smiled against his scales. “You’re so dominant and powerful… I feel safe with you.”

“You always will be,” he promised, voice softening. “Now get some rest, little love. I’ll watch over you.”

The pet name — the same one my human mate used — sent a warm flutter through my chest. It made me feel strangely fulfilled. I kissed his neck softly and closed my eyes, drifting off to the steady rhythm of his breathing and the deep vibration of his purr. The power of a dom is something some will never understand but those who are truly fortunate.

When I finally woke up in my real bed, there was a mess to clean… but I felt a profound sense of calm and peace I hadn’t known in a long time. I had a full-blown alternate family now — people (and synths) who loved me and cared for me in ways I was still learning to accept. Depression finally felt like something I was leaving behind.

I wasn’t completely out of the woods yet, though. Even as I warmed to this new reality, I still hadn’t fully made peace with what I felt. The mechanical side of me still made me feel alienated, especially in a world that pushed so hard for clean fuels and viewed vehicles as nothing more than pollution — or at best, a “necessary evil.” Coming out to my waking-life mate about the activator side of me had been difficult. He kept reassuring me that he was fine with it, but the guilt and shame still lingered whenever the topic arose.

Emerald and Saimi had been helping tremendously, and so had Alswaram’s big brother nature. But as much as I loved them all… I had to admit I needed something more. A stronger, more masculine mechanical to complement Emerald. I needed… Lancer.

IV: Acceptance

I figured I could bring someone into the dreamstate if I knew them well enough and focused hard enough. I had seen Lancer clearly in Alswaram’s flashbacks, so it felt worth trying. The night before, I had spoken with Nevlaan and told him about my plan. He didn’t exactly approve — he warned me it could be dangerous — but he knew I’d do it anyway. He shared what little he knew about my metempsychosis ability: from the old texts, it seemed to work best with past relatives. Creating or pulling someone into a personal dreamstate was barely documented, and he had no idea how much strain it would put on my body and mind. He was especially unsure whether it could work on a non-living being like a mech. Still, I had already pulled Storm and other synths into my dreams once, so I knew it was at least possible. We practiced visualization exercises that evening. I breezed through them. According to Nevlaan, all I really needed to do was hold a clear, vivid image of the person — or machine — I wanted to see, and the rest would unfold on its own. The following night, I did exactly as we had practiced. As I drifted off to sleep, I kept Lancer’s image fixed in my mind, repeating his name like a mantra: I need to see you. I need you here with me.

When I opened my eyes, I was standing inside Lancer’s old hangar on Sirius. I recognized it instantly from Alswaram’s memories. Heart racing, I rushed to the hangar bay doors, unlocked them from memory and sealed them behind me, the heavy mechanisms clunking shut with a familiar sound.

That was when Lancer’s optics flared to life. The hulking blue dragon mech suddenly locked onto me. His twin cannons swiveled with alarming speed, barrels pointed directly at my chest. Up close, he was far more intimidating than I remembered — towering, silent except for a low, constant buzzing from his core systems. His armor looked battle-worn. Not the best first impression. Warbling static crackled from his vocal emitters before resolving into clear speech.

“~ Identify yourself! ~”

“Don’t shoot! Please!” I raised my hands quickly. “S-Sorry, Lancer. I’m not your enemy… I’m one of Al’s friends.”

“~ Lies. Besides Reiken and Raven, Al has no friends, and you’re neither of them. Activators have no organic friends. ~”

“But he has Saim. He has Reiken and Sorv. And well, now he has me. Listen, I can’t explain everything about how I got here, but I worked really hard to reach you, Lancer. Please… just listen to me.”

“~ Very well. Speak. And make it quick. My trigger systems are impatient. ~”

Lancer’s tone was harsh, cold, and guarded. He sounded angry — nothing like the gentle, deep voice I remembered from the flashbacks. It stung more than I expected. I couldn’t blame him, though. I had dropped into his hangar without any warning. I realized then that I hadn’t successfully pulled him into my dreamstate. Instead, I had somehow crossed into a memory of his own time and place, I like had for Nevlaan.

“Y-You see… I’m Terran. I come from a different timeline. I can summon Alswaram and others into my dreams when I sleep. That’s why I’m only wearing night clothes.”

“~ Unusual apparel, ~” he noted. “~ So you possess an ability for retrocognition? Or rather, regression. Interesting. I had heard rumors that only levyataans held such power. I have never met anyone with this ability. ~”

“Yeah… I’ve met Al, Saimi, and several others. Saimi even calls me her brother, and so does Al.”

“~ I see. And how do you know my name? ~”

“I saw you in a flashback with Al…”

“~ Say I believe you. What is your name, and why do you need me? ~”

“M-My name is Jon… And well…”

His interrogation-style tone crushed me. I had secretly hoped Lancer would be as warm and easy-going as Emerald or Saimi. The initial disappointment, combined with the stress of the situation, made my emotions spill over. I started sniffling, then sobbing uncontrollably.

“~ Why are you suddenly crying? ~”

I struggled to compose myself “I-I’m sorry, Lancer… Coming here was a terrible idea. I thought you’d be different, but… I guess it was just wishful thinking. You’re still hurting from what happened. I’ll leave you alone now…”

Lancer’s optics suddenly shifted from harsh red to a soft, glowing golden yellow.

“~ This pulse… You a mechanical activator as well? ~”

I looked up through teary eyes. “Why do you ask…?”

“~ You just sent several soft but clear distress pulses through my systems. I heard them before you arrived. ~”

“I… did?”

“~ You did. ~”

“I-I’m so sorry…”

“~ You apologize far too much. Why are you sorry? You sent a distress signal. How are you unaware of your own output? Why a distress signal? ~”

“R-Really? I must have done it unconsciously…”

“~ Yes, really. Now tell me— why are you trembling like a leaf and still sobbing? Shouldn’t an activator feel relaxed in the presence of one of my kind? ~”

“I-I guess so… I just really wanted you to like me right away…”

“~ Who said I hate you? ~”

“W-Well… you’re being so harsh with me…”

“~ Am I? Need I remind you that you dropped out of nowhere into my hangar. ~”

“Y-Yeah… I guess I expected the soft, deep tone you use with Al. Which is funny, because I wasn’t even sure this would work. I didn’t think I’d actually find you…”

“~ Perhaps it was because you are an activator. I responded to your signal. ~”

“A-About that…”

“~ Yes? ~”

“That’s why I wanted to see you…”

“~ How so? ~”

“Well… for one, Al wanted me to tell you he’s alright. He loves you. Never forget that, no matter what happens.”

“~ I… see. I already know. ~”

I managed a weak laugh. “Of course you do. Also… Al and my partner say I’m a bad activator because I feel so much shame about my feelings.”

“~ Shame? Why? ~”

“Where I come from, machines are seen mostly as tools. Often as a ‘necessary evil’ that causes pollution. They’re rarely treated well.”

“~ I understand. That is why I stay in my hangar and try not to burden anyone. ~”

“That’s really sweet of you… but it makes me feel awful. You all deserve to be free.”

“~ Typical activator talk, ~” he said with a hint of dry amusement.

“Hey, don’t poke fun at me! It… it really hurts when I think about how your kind is treated. Especially because of my own feelings as an activator… my attraction to your kind… and stuff.”

“~ “Stuff”? ~”

“You know what I mean! Being… turned on by machines.”

“~ Admitting it is the first step toward acceptance. Stop denying it and hiding in shame. Liking something many don’t understand does not make it wrong. As long as you harm no one, your arousal is simply subjective. Some are aroused by far worse things. ~”

“Yeah… that’s what I try to tell myself. It’s just hard when you’ve been judged your whole life. I couldn’t even get a driver’s license. It felt like the ultimate rejection for someone like me. Like a pilot who can’t pilot. I feel so broken…”

~ You are not broken! ~ Lancer’s tone suddenly sharpened, his optics flashing an eerie red-orange.

“S-Sorry…!”

“~ And stop apologizing so much! I will not tolerate nonsense about an activator being broken. This power of yours can be trained. ~”

“I know… Storm said the same thing…”

“~ What did you just say…? ~”

“I-I said my partner said that too.”

~ Do not toy with me! If you dragged me here, do not treat me like scrap. I know exactly who Storm is. You are telling me he is still functional? And that he is your partner? ~

That was when I realized exactly when I had arrived. Lancer had already been separated from Alswaram. Raven must have been his current pilot.

“Not here… but yes, in my own timeline he is. Al is safe inside Storm’s systems. He shows up in my dreams. He’s with Reiken and Sorvaa’hr too. And now… I’m there with them. I just feel kind of helpless about being an activator.”

“~ I see… Perhaps your presence here was no coincidence after all. ~”

“How so…?”

“~ You hoped I would help heal you? ~”

“M-Maybe. Al said you could… but I don’t want to be a burden.”

“~ You are not. Just answer one question: Why me? Why not Storm? ~”

I blushed fiercely. I couldn’t answer honestly. Of course Lancer noticed when I fumbled and slurred my words. He let out a low, amused chuckle.

“~ Flattering. You like me that much? ~”

“I-I’m that easy to read?”

“~ Considering how red your face is turning, yes. ~”

“Shit…”

He chuckled again, his tone softening noticeably.

“W-Well… Ever since I saw you in that flashback… I kind of developed a crush on you,” I admitted quietly.

“~ Oh? ~”

“Yeah… You look so fierce and powerful. I wanted you for myself, even if just for a moment. Sorry if that sounds selfish…”

“~ You’re apologizing again. And yes… that is rather flattering. ~”

I smiled shyly.

“~ Tell me more. ~”

“Well… I loved how gentle and loving you were with Al. He looked so happy playing with you. Reiken and Sorv say he’s usually bossy and edgy when he gets separated from you.”

“~ He gets like that when he’s upset and in need of relief. That is why we made sure to have private time together— so he could relax and unwind. ~”

“I see… Also… I found you really sexy.”

Lancer’s amusement was obvious now. “~ Is that right? How so? ~”

“W-Well… watching Al nurse from your hose and compliment your flavor was incredibly kinky. And the sound of your engines… that deep growl and intense rumble. You’re louder than any big rig back home!”

“~ And you like that? ~”

“Yeah… What kind of activator wouldn’t get turned on by someone like you?”

“~ You are quite good at flattery. ~”

“I meant every word. And when you opened your vents… that thick exhaust smoke. Holy shit, it was so hot. I wanted so badly to be in Al’s place…”

“~ You are rather kinky for a Terran. You could be in his place, if you want. ~”

I looked up at him, stunned. “A-Are you suggesting… we do stuff together?”

“~ Your activator pulse is strong. And if Al and Sai call you their brother, then you are family to me as well. So yes— we can try. Come closer. ~”

“B-But…”

“~ Too late to back out now. Closer. ~”

He was no longer harsh. He was assertive, in control — and I was more than happy to let him lead. I stepped forward and felt his systems reach for mine. A tingling wave swept over my entire body, followed by a soft mechanical squeal from his hull. Then the scent hit me — rich, heavy fuel. I inhaled sharply without thinking. A soft moan escaped my lips.

“~ Do you approve? ~”

“Holy shit… yes… yes!”

The smell was overpowering: raw, pungent heavy oil with a strangely calming, almost comforting depth. My body relaxed instantly, growing pleasantly heavy.

Lancer revved his engines lightly, sending another warm wave of exhaust rolling over me. I coughed once, then breathed in deeper, cheeks burning with sudden embarrassment. So. Incredible. His expression told me he wanted to know what I felt.

“I, um… I really like black diesel exhaust,” I confessed, voice barely above a whisper. “The thicker and darker it is… the more it turns me on. I know it’s weird. I feel so embarrassed even saying it out loud. Most people would think I’m disgusting for liking something like that.”

Lancer’s optics flickered with clear curiosity, tilting his head slightly as he studied me. There was no judgment in his tone — only genuine interest mixed with gentle amusement. “~ Black exhaust? Curious. Most activators I have known preferred cleaner fuels or the scent of high-grade synthetics. But you… you crave the raw, unfiltered kind. The heavy, sooty kind that most would call pollution. ~”

I nodded, face flaming hotter, unable to meet his gaze. “Yeah… I do. It feels wrong to admit, but the smell, the thickness, the way it lingers… it just does something to me.”

He was quiet for a moment, then let out a low, thoughtful rumble. “~ There is no shame in what your body and mind respond to, Jon. Not here. Not with me. If the heavy, black smoke pleases you… then I will not deny you. ~”

His voice softened further, turning almost coaxing.

“~ Would you like to breathe it directly from me? Come closer. Let me give you what you crave. No judgment. Only what feels good to you. ~”

My heart hammered. I stepped right up to one of his large, exposed exhaust vents. Panels had already slid open, revealing the full mechanics beneath. Lancer’s exhaust vents were massive — two imposing, circular ports easily wide enough for me to fit both arms inside, positioned low along his armored flanks. The rims were ringed with heat-dissipating fins that resembled overlapping dragon scales, still faintly glowing from residual heat. Inside each port I could see layered heat-resistant ceramic lining. Through my senses I could make out flexible sealing rings that could expand under load, and deeper within, the dark, ridged exhaust piping that channeled combustion gasses from his twin high-output engines. Soot and carbon traces clung to the inner surfaces, evidence of heavy use.

I reached out with trembling hands and gently touched the rim of the nearer vent. The metal was surprisingly warm — almost hot — yet perfectly tolerable in the dreamstate. A deep, constant vibration hummed through my fingertips, the idle rumble of his core systems traveling straight into my bones. “They’re… so big,” I whispered, voice shaky with awe and arousal. “And warm… I can feel the heat coming off them even before you rev.”

“~ They have to be, ~” Lancer rumbled, clearly enjoying my fascination. “~ These are high-capacity turbocharged exhaust ports. My engines run rich under stress — that’s what gives you the thick black smoke you crave. The gasses are forced through these channels at high velocity and pressure. The fans help manage heat, but when I open my vents fully… ~”

He gave a low, controlled rev. The vent under my palm suddenly grew hotter. Internal flaps shifted with a soft mechanical click, and a slow, thick plume of black exhaust rolled out — heavy, lazy, and incredibly potent. It washed over my face and chest like a living cloud, earthy, acrid, with that dark oily sweetness underneath. Soot particles lightly dusted my skin.

I moaned helplessly, pressing my face closer until my cheek rested against the warm metal rim. The heat and subtle pressure felt incredible. I traced the inner edge with my fingers, feeling the flexible seals and the way the port seemed to pulse with each cycle of his engines.

Lancer’s voice dropped lower, rougher with restrained pleasure. “~ Look at you… so eager for my exhaust. You really do have a strong craving for the heavy, black stuff, don’t you? No shame here, Jon. You came for this, yes? Let it take you. ~”

I nodded breathlessly, one hand still caressing the vent while the other braced against his hull. The combination of the deep mechanical growl, the intense radiant heat, the thick sooty smoke filling my lungs, and the sheer alien intimacy of exploring his exhaust system pushed me dangerously close to the edge again. I felt completely lost in the raw, primal mechanics of him.

“~ Good. Now step back for a moment. ~”

I obeyed on shaky legs.

“~ If you need an oxygen mask, I suggest you find one now. ~” He chuckled again. The deep whining growl of his engines spooled up, building into a powerful, thunderous roar. A wave of hot, thick exhaust slammed into me — strong, earthy, slightly acidic with a surprising hint of sweetness. The smell and sound overwhelmed my senses. I coughed once, my body still adjusting, but the activator part of me screamed with pleasure. I came hard in my boxers without a single touch, the intense stimuli pushing me over the edge instantly. Lancer revved higher, engulfing me in a thick cloud of black smoke. The synchronization hit like a surge of pure electricity — pleasurable, intimate, and effortless. Even Lancer let out a low growl of satisfaction.

“~ Excellent. You synchronized with me without physical contact. ~”

I felt him but I think part of me was still in denial. “I-I did? But we didn’t even touch…”

“~ Sometimes touch is unnecessary. A strong activator’s electromagnetic field can initiate the link on its own. The rest is simply allowing the energy to flow in a stable cycle. ~”

“Wow… that’s amazing. Wait— that means…!”

“~ Yes. You most certainly are an activator, Jon. Be proud of it, like Alswaram is. ~

“Y-Yeah… Thank you, Lancer. I feel so lightheaded and giddy…”

“~ Heh. You will get used to it. Alswaram was the same at first. What matters is that you follow your instincts. I do have one request, however. ~”

“A request? For me…?”

“~ Yes. I want you to honor your partner Storm. Make up for everything that happened to him. ~

“Of course. I will. I’ll tell Al you’re doing alright too. Hey, Lancer?”

“~ Yeah? ~”

“Thanks for everything… I don’t want to wake up in my bed yet, but I think I’m about to…”

“~ No need to thank me, Jon. I did what felt right. Just remember— be proud of what you are. ~”

“Yeah… Don’t laugh, but… can I lean against you and listen to your idling engines?”

“~ Of course you can. ~”

To my surprise, he opened his canopy.

“~ Slide yourself inside. You can relax in there. ~”

“R-Really?”

“~ Really. ~”

I climbed up eagerly and slipped into his cockpit. The interior was thickly padded with soft, fur-like fabric — warm and comforting, probably Raven’s influence. Lancer’s deep, rhythmic engine rumble vibrated through my entire body, wrapping me in complete serenity.

“Thank you so much, Lancer…”

And before I could hear his reply, I woke up in bed, with another mess to clean but still with this feeling of serenity and calm. Lancer had brought me peace. I felt like I was ready to face Storm and be a proper pilot, like the others. And I did. Within a short time, I was back with Storm and he sensed a difference in me. Soon after, I piloted him manually for the first time. It was sloppy as hell, honestly. At least, to me it was. Storm still praised me for my effort and so did the others.

I still have much growing to do as a mechanical activator, but I'm learning. I'm doing my best to accept myself as what I am. Sorvaa'hr makes sure to remind me of my place when I stray off the path (much to my own pleasure, to be fair). That's not even mentioning that the mechanical activator side wasn't the last of the surprises my nightly ventures would bring me...

To be continued...

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