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Hiro climbed the padded leather steps to the stage. He stepped out into the blinding light, back into the ocean of noise that came from the crowd beyond. Only this ocean was three times what it had been in Vegas. Cameras transmitted Hiro's appearance online and over televisions on two continents.

Hiro took center stage in the line up. Not because it was his place in line, but because other contestants shuffled themselves accordingly. Hiro smiled. So he had allies in this fight against Guntur. There was no more time to think. Hiro focused on presenting his profile - front, left side, back, right side. The standard poses came next. After that, each contestant would be subject to individual judging on their standing and standard poses.

The call came for front double biceps. Hiro's body bloomed outward as he raised his arms. It was the first time the audience got to see him flex, and in that moment Hiro felt all of the pain, anguish, sacrifice, and self doubt wash away with the responding roar of the crowd.

Hiro forced himself to hold back for this round. He wanted to save the real show for his individual portion. He relaxed into the familiar routine, his mind adrift on the adrenaline wave of competition. The group pose down finished. One third of the whole contest was over. The curtain closed. The contestants made their way down the steps to receive touch ups to their oil.

Tavoro met Hiro backstage. "I thought you'd want to know, Manz is feeling better," he said as he brushed some more oil over Hiro's gigantic pecs.

"That's a relief," Hiro agreed.

"Remember not just to pose. The judges want to get a sense of your style."

"I know," Hiro said. "Keep true to form, but make it interesting. Don't worry, I'm warmed up, now." Hiro flashed Tavoro a confident wink.

Tavoro smiled and clapped Hiro's shoulder. "Go get 'em, kid."

"Number 22."

At the sound of his number, Hiro returned to the stage. He stood tall, lats tensed but not flared, head held high. The audience was already whooping with excitement. Hiro could make out open mouths and even a few guys biting their lips to suppress hard-ons. This was going to be fun.

"Front double bicep."

Hiro exhaled, tightening up his eight pack. He let his arms rise and rise as if tied to balloons. This was the Mr. Colossus. Contestants had as long as they wanted to complete each pose. Hiro let the judges and the audience marvel as his already massive arms swelled bigger, higher, let them take in every detail before, at the last moment, he flexed them fast and hard.

The audience surged. Like a tsunami, they rose to their feet - first the balconies, then down through the ranks of the seats. The central judge was a fox. He beamed at Hiro, eyes shining. Hiro's heart surged with pride. With honest joy. It had all been worth it for this moment. To stand on the biggest stage in the bodybuilding world and hear that noise, that glorious deafening noise.

"Side chest," announced the fox judge.

Hiro met his eyes and nodded, as though they were comrades in this venture. He saw the fox's eartips burn. This one was for him. If the fox was anything like how Hiro used to be, Hiro knew how to get to him. One leg bent and rippling, body erect, Hiro started with both paws right over his crotch so that it almost looked like he was grabbing himself. A few of the lewder audience member started to whistle. Hiro's fingers closed over his wrists. His arms drew upward along his abs, to just under his pecs. One elbow drew backward so that Hiro could thrust his ribcage out. With every move, Hiro's pecs seemed to expand larger and larger. Every time it did, the audience got crazier.

"Side tricep."

Hiro had planned for this. Until now his moves had been slow and fluid, meant to be a statement that he belonged here despite his species. Now he did a sudden snap down into the tricep's pose - BOOM. The audience reeled back. Some men clutched at their foreheads in disbelief. Hiro had some of the deepest cut, largest triceps of ANY bodybuilder, according to his pro stats. Huge Grand Canyon cliffs of muscle formed a cathedral point with perfect striations fanning out and upward.

"Front lat spread."

Now it was time for the big guns. Time to show the world how WIDE a fucking fox could get. Hiro copied this style of flex directly from his Nationals routine, hiding back his true width at first and then reeling it out more and more and MORE until guys were pounding their seats and holding out their arms to embrace him. At his full flex, Hiro was 60 inches wide - twice the width of a standard doorway.

"Back double biceps." Hiro sent the audience a flirtatious smirk. Ass shot time.

He could tell that they knew he was playing with them and they were eating it up. Hiro faced the back of the stage. This flex had to be done entirely from muscle memory, making it the most difficult of the standard poses. Hiro closed his eyes to focus on the sensations of his body.

Keeping legs and round, rock hard glutes tensed, he did another slow wide sweep with the arms into the flex, curling one arm and then the other so that his great, thick back bunched up into foot-wide knots of muscle. From the sounds of the crowd, they couldn't believe what they were seeing. Hiro grinned. The judge called for the rear lat spread, and Hiro obliged in the same dramatic fashion as the front lat spread. Only this time, everyone could see the magic happen. Hiro sucked in much needed air. The bright lights pounded on his body. He craved a nice, long, cold drink. He hadn't had water in hours by now. But the battle wasn't over.

"Front abdominal thigh."

That was the flex known to laymen as the abs crunch pose. Hiro relaxed out of the lat spread and turned back to face the ecstatic crowd. He strolled to the very edge of the stage. Hiro acted as though he were going into a casual morning wake up stretch. He closed his eyes to actually nuzzle against one of his huge arms while he folded them up high behind his back, elbows to the ceiling.

Then his head came up and his eyes shot open. Hiro used every last ounce of concentration he had to control his breathing and his eight pack. He didn't just push out the air from his lungs to flex down on the abs. He did it in a series, so that each set of abdominal muscles got a half second of individual flex time before the next set appeared - bang, bang, bang, bang! Hiro grimaced with the effort, forcing the edges of his mouth up in as best a smile as he could manage.

The fox judge thanked him, unshed tears in his eyes. The crowd was on its feet. Hiro rose up out of the abdominal pose and blew the judges a kiss before firing off his signature crowd salute. The stage curtains closed. Hiro's ears rang slightly. Bruno came over to shake his paw. Hiro staggered down the steps to where Burt and Tavoro waited. Burt handed Hiro a water bottle. Hiro drained it and crushed the empty bottle in his fist with a groan of exhaustion and triumph.

Tavoro smiled. "Hard part's over."

Bruno took his turn on the stage, followed by a rhino from South Africa and a Spanish stallion. Then came Guntur. High definition flat screen monitors were set up back stage so that coaches could watch their champions go through their routines. It was never a good idea to watch the competition pose. It raised self doubt. But Hiro had to see what Guntur was capable of.

A short, powerfully built tasmanian devil stood gazing fixedly at the screen when Hiro came up. His paws rested under his mouth, fingers steepled as if in prayer. Hiro gave him a smile.

"You must be Warra."

Warra looked about as though afraid to be caught talking to Hiro.

"If I'm disturbing you..." Hiro started to say.

"...He has to win. He HAS to!" Warra whimpered.

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Hiro answered.

"You don't understand. Guntur made me put EVERYTHING I own into this. If he doesn't win...if he doesn't get the money...I'm homeless. What'll my son do? He won't have anywhere to go if the trade school doesn't take him."

Warra didn't seem to be talking to Hiro directly. His eyes remained fixed on the screen while Guntur completed flex after devastating flex like some monster out of a Japanese movie. Hiro couldn't look away from the screen, either. He slowly inched closer, mouth starting to open. On the monitor, Guntur brought his hulking arms upward like a conquering god, bearing huge fangs imperiously over the top of his bunched up pectorals. The picture wavered ever so slightly because the camera operator was shaking.

"....shit." Hiro whispered.

There was no audio feed, so it was impossible to tell the audiences reaction except by whatever could be heard through the curtains. Hiro didn't hear much. Guntur had them all in stunned silence. In pure awe. Guntur went into his own rear lat spread. A band of white formed a beautiful arrowhead shape in his black fur from his traps down to the middle of his back. It accentuated the stunning width that Guntur displayed. A primal growl from the stage made both Hiro and Warra jump back a little. Warra looked up at Hiro.

"I'm not throwing this for you," Hiro said.

"Of course not," Warra agreed. He took Hiro's paw and kissed the back of it. "But if you disqualify him, I'm ruined. Please. Please don't tell anyone what happened with Manz. I'll do anything."

Warra reached out to worshipfully smear his paws along Hiro's oiled loins. "Anything," he repeated in a desperate murr.

Hiro had to leave him before giving an answer. Guntur was done with his routine and stalking back down the stage, shouldering other contestants out of his way, chuckling under his breath.

*

"So what do I do?" Hiro asked.

Burt looked at Tavoro, leaning against the counter in their shared hotel suite.

"We can't tell you," Tavoro said.

"But we'll stand by whatever you decide," Burt added.

"The number for the VP of security's there on the end table," Tavoro pointed out. "There's your one phone call."

"Almost everyone saw what he did," Hiro said. "What if one of the other contestants reports Guntur?"

"You know how that bear works. You're the only guy who's ever had the guts to stand up to him," Burt said.

Hiro rolled into bed with a huff. He lay there naked between the sheets, unable to sleep. Guntur had to be stopped. He destroyed everything and everyone he touched. But Warra was Guntur's victim as much as Manz had been. How could he decide between them?

Hiro got up. He moved as quietly as he could with his new bulk. Burt and Tavoro slept back to back in the other bed. The two men Hiro loved more than anyone in the world. Hiro squeezed into the bathroom. He'd meant to try taking another shower. Instead, he caught sight of the small framed art piece that rested next to the bathroom mirror. It was some generic Asian thing meant to evoke harmony or peace. The writing was Japanese, though. A single word scrawled up the right side of the picture - patience.

Hiro frowned. He slipped the picture off of the wall and sat on the toilet bowl, holding it in his paws. When he was still in high school, Hiro's mother had tried to enroll him in an after school Asian philosophy class. Sun Tzu, Lao Tazu, Confucius, Kukai - the classics. They all had something to say about patience. Of course, Hiro hadn't paid much attention, then. Bits and pieces still slipped into his memory, though. It was not the place of men to punish the wicked. Merely protect the innocent, comfort the victims, and the truly evil would be their own downfall.

Hiro snorted. Ironic, that after all the years of advice from Burt, it was Hiro's mother who managed to reach across the years and give him wisdom.

"All right, Okaa-san, we'll do things your way."

*

It wasn't easy for Warra to slip away from Guntur. Guntur wanted to celebrate yesterday's triumph, and even though it was afternoon, Warra could still barely walk right. Warra spotted Hiro sitting over his final meal of the day. Another night of competition meant another night without food or water to keep the body fat as small as possible.

Hiro was alone. That surprised Warra. He'd thought Hiro would meet him with Lawrence Tavoro in tow. Warra glanced around before sitting across from the giant fox. "You've decided, then?"

Hiro nodded over his salad. "I won't report Guntur. But I won't stop Manz from doing it if he decides to."

"Fair enough, I suppose," Warra said dejectedly.

"That's not why I asked to see you," Hiro said. Warra looked up, surprised.

"I want to help you, Warra. You said you'd do anything if I agreed to keep quiet. Well, here's my condition - you promise to stop training Guntur. You take your son and you find a better job. I'm going to give you my contest winnings, so you won't need to worry about money even if Manz does speak up."

Warra was shocked.

"I....I couldn't accept that!" He gasped.

"Even if it meant working for Lawrence Tavoro?"

"What?" Warra squeaked. His mind reeled. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about your gym space, Warra," Hiro said. "I'm talking about transforming it into a public gym. You'd be the head trainer. Tavoro would be the chief admin. We can use whatever winnings I get as the capital to renovate it. And if Guntur doesn't like it, well...we can always make the call then. You know the press. They love a good scandal." Warra sat, speechless. In all his years of bodybuilding and training, no one had ever gone out of their way for him. Warra had been content to be a tool, to be used by guys hungry to get huge.

"That's my offer. Take it or leave it," Hiro prompted.

Warra got up. He walked over to Hiro. Hiro adjusted himself so they faced each other. Warra leaned in, keeping it slow, giving the mighty fox plenty of time to reject him. Hiro accepted the kiss without a word.

"I've been wrong about so many things," Warra said.

"You and me both, Warra," Hiro answered.

"Good luck tonight, mate."

Hiro smiled, amused. "You're going to cheer for me?"

"Well," Warra said with a blush, "today's already produced one miracle. Who knows? You might pull off another and be the new Mr. Colossus. Here's hoping."

*

This was it. This was what everyone had flown in from halfway across the world and paid hundreds of dollars to see. The free pose round. The posing order had shifted. Guntur would pose before Hiro this time. Guntur's music matched his personality - loud, arrogant, aggressive. It even had pre-recorded loops of Guntur's own voice in it, proclaiming himself champion and more. This time, Hiro knew better than to watch Guntur's routine on the monitors.

The stagehand nearest Hiro was a wiry ermine in a simple polo shirt and faded jeans. He stood motionless, transfixed by what he was seeing on the stage. His cum stain ran all the way down his leg, unnoticed. Hiro could feel Guntur's energy from all the way back stage as he flaunted that monstrous body of his to its limit, silently demanding the audience worship him the way he deserved.

Guntur tore his way backstage in a joyous rampage. His grin dripped with saliva. He stood at the top of the stage steps and gave one last towering double biceps flex.

"Good luck beating that, boys! That trophy is MINE!"

Guntur laughed and swaggered down the stage. He reached out and grabbed the front of Warra's shirt without even looking at the devil.

"No! Guntur, wait! I want to stay!" Warra protested as his feetpaws skidded along the ground.

"The fuck for? They won't call me back for my trophy for another hour."

"I said NO!"

Warra yanked himself free, leaving Guntur holding his shirt. Hiro silently admired the devil's nicely sculpted physique. He could see why Guntur was so keen to keep it to himself.

Guntur blinked. He snorted. "Fine, whatever. You," he pointed up at the ermine stage hand, then smirked and beckoned with a clawed finger. The ermine squealed and sprinted down to Guntur. His moans echoed back down the corridor as they headed for the pump room.

Hiro shook his head. Thanks to Guntur's antics, the appearance of the next contestant had been delayed by several seconds. The husky backstage manager appeared. He looked around for his ermine employee, then spied Hiro.

"22, let's go! Let's go!"

Warra shook Hiro's paw. Several of the other contestants gave him high five's as he strolled up the steps. The audience, so shuddering and cowed after Guntur, broke into beaming smiles and cheers as Hiro appeared.

Hiro grinned back, hold his huge arms open as if to embrace them. He strolled to the very heart of the stage and stood there, paws on his hips, giving his heavy pectorals a few bounces in preparation. Just before the music queued up to start, Hiro put a paw behind his right ear, and the crowd roared louder.

The beat started. It was playful and rousing, but with lyrics that spoke of pride and sacrifice. The audience recognized the popular tune, and were soon swaying in their seats and clapping along while Hiro treated them to his show. The stage was his. Other than an indecent exposure clause, there was nothing off limits.

First, Hiro showed off his ass. He turned his huge back to the crowd and swung both freakish arms upward in a hard double biceps flex while splaying his feet wider and wider apart, gyrating his hips to work those glutes.He didn't think the crowd could have gotten louder, but they did. He heart several whoops and hollers. Hiro smooched one bicep, then the other, and turned back around. He kept one arm flexed behind his head, crunching down on his shredded obliques and gesturing toward them with his free paw. Fist pumps and clapping. Guys on their feet.

A bunny yelled something. Hiro read his lips - lat spread. He pointed to the bunny and then gave him his wish, nodding his head and grinning in his own version of the cocky muscle man at the reaction that got. It wasn't so much a contest any more as a party.

It had been Burt's idea to ad lib the free pose round. As he put it, Hiro had worked and drilled and practiced his tail off. It was about time he had some fucking fun for a change. Hiro took more audience requests as he could make them out. He swung his enormous body into an archer's pose that almost took the roof off. He pulled off a front splits while leaning backward to overtly thrust his package out with a lewd lolling tongue.

Time to wrap up. Hiro took center stage one last time and unleashed the fire. He leaned forward, crushed his arms down and in, and let out his best vulpine roar as he pulled off a most muscular flex. There were no full seats in the house. Even the judges were on their feet, applauding. Hiro blew them all a kiss. The fox judge couldn't contain himself. He literally climbed up onto the stage to give Hiro a hug. Hiro laughingly hugged him back, then took his leave.

*

The waiting was the worst. Hiro sat in his private locker room amid the other contestants. It was a crowded beef fest that only Tavoro seemed at ease with. Burt watched from the doorway. The other bodybuilders wanted to hear Hiro's story. So Hiro told them, with more details supplied by Burt and later by Tavoro.

By the time it was over, the judges were ready. Hiro walked back on stage at the head of the line up. Guntur was forced to take the rear, no matter how much he tried to bully his way closer to the front. All twelve contestants faced the crowd. Tavoro was there, as well. He had changed into a formal suit to hand out the trophies. Hiro had to force himself to breathe.

"In fourth place, from Andhra Pradesh, India - Krishna Sheer Khan!"

The gorgeous hulk of a white tiger accepted his medal and shook Tavoro's hand.

"In third place, from London, Great Britain - Sampson Shire!"

A towering stallion had to bend almost in half to shake Tavoro's hand. He stood close to eight feet tall. It was a miracle he didn't crush the stage.

"In second place, from San Francisco, California - Hiro MacCarther!"

Second place! Hiro felt like a supernova. His first time at the Mr. Colossus and he'd come in second place! Only Lawrence Tavoro himself had ever beaten that record by winning the Mr. Colossus on his first showing. Tavoro grinned like a proud father as he slipped Hiro's silver medal over his head, then yanked him into a big hug. Hiro returned to the line up, hoping against hope.

"The winner of this year's Mr. Colossus, with a cheque for two million dollars is....GUNTUR SABAH FROM SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA!"

So much for Tavoro's record.

Guntur lumbered out of line, flexed his pecs, and gave a ROOOAR of triumph that blasted the judges back into their seats. He started to laugh as he swaggered over to Tavoro. To the bull's credit, he kept a professional composure and even shook Guntur's huge paw after handing him the trophy.

Guntur yanked the trophy from Tavoro's hands. He swung it up to prop it up on one giant shoulder and stood at the center edge of the stage, other arm flexed high, grinning.Tavoro might have been able to contain his disappointment and accept the judges' decision with grace. The audience had no such qualms.

Guntur's smile died as a quarter of a million men and women told him exactly what they thought of his win. The boos echoed off the walls. A few were so upset they stormed out. Guntur stood there, confused. It wasn't supposed to work like that. Fans were sheep who always flocked to the winner. He was the biggest, manliest man on the fucking stage. He'd broken the world record for biggest biceps, for fuck's sake!

Things started to fly at the stage - empty plastic bottles and crumpled pamphlets. Hiro watched Guntur take a few steps back, uncertain. He actually looked slightly hurt. Betrayed. The huge bear scanned the crowd for any approval at all. But it was a nightmarish sea of angry faces and paws ordering him to get off the stage. There was security, of course. But they stood by, arms folded, glaring up at Guntur as though he'd stolen something.

With no one cheering him or moaning over his body, Guntur did the unthinkable. He bolted. Still in a confused daze, he made his way off the stage, down the steps, and out of sight. Even Warra had deserted him.

The announcer looked at a loss for how to keep the crowd under control. Tavoro offered to take the microphone. His pecs swelled under his suit.

"SHUT UP AND SIT DOWN!"

Even the security guards ducked their tails between their legs. The crowd settled at once, like a bunch of naughty school boys.

"I'll be the first to admit, I don't agree with some of the judges' decisions today," Tavoro went on. "But then I'm not in their shoes, and neither are any of you. Anyone who comes to this stage - ANYONE - has worked and sweat and bled to do it, and deserves that trophy. Being here to watch this is a privilege. For me and for all of you. You should all be ashamed of that childish display you just pulled."

No one in 25,000 faces could look Tavoro in the eye. Tavoro turned to the back stage manager. "Bill, see if you can find Guntur and get him back here."

Tavoro sighed. He offered the microphone back to the stage announcer, but the wolf declined. Hiro stepped forward. Tavoro handed him the mic. People started to clap and cheer again, though more subdued. Hiro waved them to silence.

"Tavoro's right. If the judges say Guntur deserves the win, then Guntur deserves the win." Hiro paused. Then, "For myself, I'm just happy to have made it this far. Farther than any fox ever has in bodybuilding. And, to be honest, folks, I don't think I could manage to do it again. So I guess this means I'm retiring from professional bodybuilding."

There were groans of dismay. Tavoro took the mic once more.

"Let me tell you all a little something about Hiro, here." He put a hand on Hiro's hulking back. "I meant what I said in that magazine. Hiro MacCarther is my successor, at least in spirit. He has the same drive, the same love of the sport I always have. In recent years, bodybuilding's become big business. A lot of money gets thrown around places like the Mr. Colossus these days, and a lot of politics with it. Fans take sides. Scandals erupt. Somewhere along the way, we forget what bodybuilding's really about."

Tavoro looked the crowd in the eyes.

"It doesn't matter if you'll never flex on stage. You can still be a champion. It doesn't matter if you never have a photo in a magazine or a sexy beach body. You can still improve yourself through weight training. The real contest happens between who you are today and who you could be in five, ten years of dedication. That's the real spirit of bodybuilding. And I would call anyone of you who really goes for it a bodybuilder."

Tavoro clapped Hiro's back. "This fox is here to remind us all what the sport we love is really about. He's helped to save the best in it from those who only care about stats and winning. And that makes him the real winner, no matter what his medal says."

*

Hiro was in the gym, ready to welcome in the first of his new patrons as the sun rose over San Francisco Bay. The weight room at Warra's had a spectacular view of the Golden Gate out an entire wall of tall windows. Hiro's ears rose when the gym doors opened. A grin split his muzzle.

"Manz! Vito! My god, it's been a year! I never expected to see you again!"

The two hulking horses embraced and kissed Hiro.

"We heard what you were doing," Manz said. "We came to help."

"And don't worry," Vito nickered. "We promise to behave."

"How many more guys do you think will volunteer?" Hiro asked.

"After Tavoro's speech at the Mr. Colossus last year, probably quite a few," Manz said.

All three turned as the doors opened again. A timid, wide-eyed young wolverine approached them. "Was that really Lawrence Tavoro at the front desk?" he asked.

Hiro nodded. "In the flesh. I'm Hiro. These are Manz and Vito. They won't bite."

"Bongiorno," Vito said with a huge smile. "You ready to lift some weights, bitch?"

The wolverine grinned. "With guys like YOU? So...so the ads were real!"

Hiro smiled and nodded. "Pro level quality training and advice for amateaur lifters who are serious about getting the most they can out of their bodies. All run by Lawrence Tavoro. With actual national level and international level competitors coming in to volunteer their time as free trainers."

More patrons began to flock through the doors - cougars, raccoons, foxes, dogs - men and women, from teenagers to college seniors. Even a middle-aged brown bear wearing a ball cap and sporting a heavy muscle gut.

"Look'ee here, son," the bear drawled to Hiro. "Ah dunno if this place can help me, but my wife - she who must be obeyed - says if you boys can't whip me inna better shape 'afore the family reunion, I'm a lost cause."

Hiro slowly smiled. He put a paw to the side of his muzzle and yelled to the coach's office door on the far wall. "Burt! I've got your first victim!"

It was time to get work.