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The front end of the apparatus was deceptively simple. A fold-up metal chair. A small computer console. And a microphone. That's all there was in the testing room. Neatly bundled wires led through a hole into the _other_room. The back end room. More of a warehouse, really. All the real engineering, the countless tons of gleaming metal framework and devices, all the hard work, the sweat and tears, the hundreds of thousands of dollars of equipment - that was all back end.

Today, no one would be seeing the back end. Today was a special day, for today, the three of them would be showing the board the fruits of their labor. He, Benjamin, and Natasha were the leads of the many teams of scientists and engineers that had worked on the project for six years. But Jesse would be the one to sit in the chair today. His cheeks were still a bit sore from the smile he'd worn for half an hour when Benjamin and Natasha suggested he be the operator for the presentation to the board.

Being the operator was a mixed blessing on this day in particular. He would need to enunciate properly. He would need to look his best. He would need to be perfect. If the board didn't like what they saw, the Universe Project would likely be terminated.

Jesse hid a sneer as he pictured Chairman Irving's ugly old mug raising an unimpressed eyebrow at the presentation. That man should be six feet under, not serving on the board. Not having the privilege of choosing whether the project would live or die. Hell, Irving probably hadn't understood half the words being used at previous tours of the back end. Jesse made a mental note to dumb down his vocabulary. For the job security of Benjamin, Natasha, him, and everyone else who worked on the project. For the continuation of scientific progress.

He took a steadying breath as he faced the testing room. One of the thin wooden walls had been removed to accommodate viewing by every single person in the board. On any other day, the whitewashed walls had been comforting, reminding Jesse of undergrad physics laboratories. Today, their starkness mirrored the paleness of his skin. He just hoped he wouldn't break into a nervous sweat. Jesse glanced over his shoulder, admiring Natasha's glossy black hair as she continued her little speech on what to expect.

Damn her for not going out with me, he thought. It's been a few months. Maybe she'll reconsider?

His eye twitched. Focus, Jesse! Your career's on the line!

"As we've said before," she was saying, "the conditions of the universe's precursor are unknowable. However, our cosmology team is confident that we have most of the parameters correct at this point, if not all of them. Our last three months have mostly been focused on tinkering with those parameters, based on extrapolations from the conditions of the singularity and, thereafter, that Big Bang that we all know and love."

Polite chuckles ensued. Jesse refrained from tugging nervously at his collar.

"Just last week, Benjamin took the seat as the operator: the person inputting the commands. We're confident that today, we'll have the opportunity to share those same stupendous results with all of you."

The sole woman on the board spoke up. "Sorry, how exactly does talking into a microphone affect any of the equipment?"

Natasha nodded. "Good question. For ease of use, --"

No, to impress the board, Jesse thought.

"-- we are using a speech-to-text program to transform the spoken word into the commands that our machines actually utilize. From there, the command is processed by the software on our main server hub and then sent through the DEFCON."

Dark Energy Field Containment Origination Nodeset, Jesse's mind said automatically. Then he zoned out. The theory was easily understood, after one had been working on it for months and months. The power of creation, the power of literally infinite possibility, was what lived in the heart of Project Universe's apparatus. By simulating the conditions of the pre-universe, and with a little help from modern cutting-edge accelerators and Hawking arrays, one could theoretically direct the moment-to-moment state changes of any spacetime. One could manipulate the fundamental building blocks of the universe.

In layman's terms, turn spoken commands into current reality. Why hadn't Natasha phrased it like that? That moron Irving would surely be able to understand that. He made a note to use that joke on her and Benjamin later. He smirked for a fleeting moment. Ha, that would be a laugh!

Then Natasha finished her speech, so Jesse strode confidently into the three-walled room and took a seat. Twelve suits switched their gazes to him. He returned a slight smile as he waited for Natasha and Benjamin to ready up at the control station on the other side of the wall, where the wires fed through the hole.

What felt like ten minutes passed. Finally he could hear the equipment humming to life, the whole warehouse coming to life as a sizable chunk of the city's power grid was eaten up by the Universe Project's complex apparatus. The lights dimmed momentarily, but they always did that.

Benjamin's deep voice called over the wall. "All fields stable. All nodes functioning. No errors or critical warnings. Jesse, begin the simulation."

Showtime.

"Interpret commands by intent, not literal meaning," he pronounced into the microphone.

For safety, that was always the first command delivered. It wouldn't do to stutter or speak hastily and have the machines incur some awful consequence as a result. Unfortunately, the command had no perceivable effect, and was a terribly uninspiring first sentence. As was the second command.

"No command will prevent the simulation from terminating, unless I give the command for it do so."

A year ago, a long and rather boring meeting had decided that as the appropriate wording for the second command. Surprisingly, it offered many benefits. First, the simulation could keep receiving commands even after all the machinery had been powered down to conserve resources and reduce the risk of equipment failure. Jesse could hear the humming die down after he'd spoken. Second, it prevented any unforeseen consequences should a panicked onlooker shout something like 'Stop the demonstration!' Lastly, it had an impressive result.

He moved his face away from the microphone to address the board members. "You may be able to hear and see the apparatus' components reverting to their sleep or neutral states. One might think this microphone is no longer operational, but I assure you it is. The simulation of our universe's humble beginnings is still active because of the nature of Project Universe's effect."

Jesse would have enjoyed going into a bit more of the science's details. The fields generated. The Recurrent Dilation Hypothesis. (More of a validated theory at this point.) The intangible but harmless Krauss-Sagan waves penetrating every one of them. But they'd all agreed to keep explanatory words to a minimum. Show, don't tell. So he kept it simple.

He paused, relishing the prospect of giving the next command. Last week, when Benjamin had sat in the chair and Project Universe had successfully responded to a third command, Benjamin had chosen an apple. Today, Jesse fancied a pear. He held a hand out toward the board members.

"There is a ripe and delicious pear in my right hand."

Jesse was so entranced by the process that he barely heard the board's collective gasp. In the open palm of his right hand, something came from nothing. From Jesse's point of view, just over his hand, Irving's face appeared to bulge and contort. A greenish-yellow color seeped into the forming shape. A weight settled in his hand as the three-second process completed. An immaculate yellow pear rested in his hand.

He couldn't wipe the grin off his face as he bit into the fruit. And God, was it good. The apparatus had really taken the descriptor of 'delicious' to heart! His tongue darted out to catch a tiny dribble of the sweet juice running toward his chin.

Two or three murmured conversations broke out among the board members. It was to be expected. From their point of view, they'd witnessed magic.

Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic, Jesse quoted to himself, still smiling. His heart was racing. Watching someone else be the operator was one thing. Actually giving the commands, feeling the universe bend to his will - it was incredible. Beyond incredible.

While tempted to take another bite of the best pear he'd ever eaten, Jesse of course proceeded with the general script of the demonstration.

"There is an empty trash bin on the floor in front of my chair."

Again, the fabric of time and space distorted as the perpetuated influence of the apparatus parsed and instituted his command. A small plastic bin lined with a white garbage bag materialized near his feet. It wasn't what Jesse had pictured in his mind. He'd been imagining a black bag. But discrepancies were not abnormal. Project Universe had no mind-reading equipment, after all. That would be science fiction.

He made no effort to hide his joy as he dropped the pear into the bin. It made a wet thud and a crinkle of the bag. The eyes of the board members were practically bulging. They had not been prepared by videos of similar demonstrations on YouTube, at press conferences, or anywhere else. Because those did not exist. This was live. This was new. No group of bright minds in any world-class laboratory had ever done this.

Jesse could see his colleagues in his mind's eye. Benjamin's startling white teeth against his black skin when he laughed at the taste of the apple in his huge mouth. Natasha's Japanese features trying but failing to hide the smile beneath her professional demeanor. That day had been, perhaps, the best in Jesse's life. Certainly the most momentous. Today, would it be topped? Or would the next command fail?

Last week had gone swimmingly, but they had terminated the simulation after the creation of the trash bin. They'd forgotten, in their joy and surprise, to test Project Universe's capacity for destruction. Of course in theory there should be no hiccups. In theory. And of course, what had already been demonstrated was far more than sufficient to regain the project's full funding. The practical applications and pursuit of related branches of research would be underway no matter the outcome of further commands. But would the next command actually work?

Jesse took a deep breath, imagining Benjamin and Natasha to be doing the same on the other side of the wall.

"This trash bin and its contents do not exist."

And just like that, the bin faded and vanished from sight.

Jesse was on his feet, yelling in exultation with his fists in the air. The combined theories were correct! The simulation was, thus far, perfect! Two of the board members were shaking their heads in disbelief. One had a hand to his forehead. Jesse didn't much care. Project Universe was going to change the world. And he was one of its heads. He was someone who mattered.

_My God, my name will be remembered, won't it? I'm going to go down in history as one of the most famous scientists, won't I? I can't believe it._He felt his own hand go to his forehead as his eyes lost focus.

I just can't believe it. My wildest dreams have come true.

"Jesse," came Natasha's voice over the wall. A gentle reminder.

Right, the script.

"We will have time for questions following the last step of our demonstration," he told the board members. They all stopped what they were doing to listen to his every word. "Please observe this pen."

He took the black pen from his breast pocket and held it out toward the board members with a shaking hand. Slipping a piece of blank white paper from the same pocket, he scribbled for a moment with the pen's black ink. Then he licked his lips, gathered his thoughts, and spoke into the microphone.

"This pen writes in blue ink."

The pen slipped from his shaking fingers and struck the ground. Murmuring an apology, he picked it up and applied more scribbles to the piece of paper.

The new scribbles were bright blue in color.

I can't believe it. I can't believe it.

He'd had very high expectations. But today, the apparatus had met them. Even as some of the board members came closer to examine the paper that had fallen from his hand, Jesse could not fully compose himself. He felt so small, so insignificant, yet at the same time, larger than life. Huge.

"That concludes our demonstration," he muttered. And the board clapped. Oh how they clapped. Irving looked impressed for once. Benjamin and Natasha came around to the open wall of the testing room to help answer questions. Benjamin gave him a wide smile and a thumbs up. Natasha wore a tight smile, and gave him a solemn nod.

Jesse felt even huger.

"There is confetti falling from the ceiling," he told the microphone.

And so there was. Long streamers in every color of the rainbow fluttered down from the now-obscured high ceilings. Glittering paper-thin sequins fell as well. Jesse joined the others in spreading his arms to catch what he could, laughing at the reflexive response they all shared.

"Celebratory music fills the air."

Immediately, the prize-winning fanfare from some popular gameshow - Jesse couldn't place the name - was playing from nowhere, somewhere, everywhere. The board laughed, throwing confetti into the air.

Her voice partly drowned out by the tune, Natasha said, "Stop the music!" But still she could not hide her smile.

When Jesse's chuckles subsided, he repeated the command into the microphone. The last of the music echoed away.

"It can even create sound waves perfectly," he murmured to himself, shaking his head again in disbelief. Though the possibilities of Project Universe had occupied many of his dreams and waking thoughts, never before had they been so...possible. The current simulation was performing perfectly. It was asking for more trials. He ought to push the simulation a bit more. Now, while it counted most, while the whole board was in attendance.

Before Alex or Natasha could properly open the Q and A session, Jesse voiced one of his many wild imaginings into the microphone. "There is a table in the middle of the room. On the table is an open briefcase containing ten thousand dollars in cash."

The table came into existence. The open briefcase came into existence. And the expressions on every person immediately changed.

Greed. Shock. Bewilderment. Joy.

Uh-oh.

"I don't...is that real? Real, legal tender?" said Mr. Williams, one of the board members. He looked surprised.

No one replied for a moment.

"Let's, uh, let's move to questions," Natasha said.

Natasha never broke under pressure. She never stammered or stuttered when addressing important people. Yet she just had. Jesse's thoughts were moving at a hundred miles per hour.

This is bad. This is bad. This is very bad. I should not have done that. I should not_have done that. Why not? Irrelevant. I have to undo it. No, that won't change a thing. We won't need funding anymore. We won't need to buy components anymore. We won't do_ anything_the same way anymore. Everything has changed._

Benjamin's eyes moved from the briefcase to Jesse. He chewed a lip thoughtfully. Was that a disapproving frown? Or mere consideration? Two of the board members, Mr. Johnson and Mr. Sanchez started rifling through the wads of cash. Jesse's eyes widened slightly as a new thought occurred to him.

The microphone. Everyone will want to use it. Everyone will want to create the things they want. Or destroy the things they dislike. I have to shut it down. No, I only need to protect it.

"There is an invisible spherical force field around this microphone with a radius of four feet. It gently repels anyone who approaches. Except for those I invite or allow inside, I suppose."

Benjamin's face darkened. Jesse glanced at Natasha, whose face was now blank, inscrutable. The board members were mostly preoccupied with the shiny metal briefcase, but some of them looked confused or at least interested by the last command he'd spoken.

"Currently I don't want anyone else inside," Jesse said into the microphone, more quietly this time.

"What are you doing?" Natasha asked in a neutral tone.

_What_am_I doing?_Jesse thought. He could still feel his heart beating in his chest. Things were rapidly going south. He was in too deep. He couldn't dig himself out of this one. Why had he gone and created the money? Why now was he so intent on protecting the microphone?

Jesse had to wet his lips before speaking. "I have to protect it, Natasha. Now everyone knows more fully the practical implications of the simulation. We can't let anyone else use it. They aren't..." He hesitated in speaking his opinion aloud. "They aren't rational and highly educated like us."

"Jesse," said Benjamin in his most matter-of-fact voice. "You aren't behaving rationally. It's time to terminate this simulation. We should not escalate this."

Jesse nodded after a moment, feeling more at ease with Benjamin's logical words hanging in the air. He almost spoke the words to destroy the force field and then end the simulation, but a tingling feeling on the back of his neck stopped him. It wouldn't be safe.

What, you think Benjamin is going to talk into the microphone and use it for his own end? He would never do that. He's right: I'm being irrational in this. Nevertheless, the amount of power at stake is limitless. I shouldn't do anything rash.

"I don't plan on escalating anything. Lowering the force field, however, might escalate the situation. I simply want to stay here in control, until we figure out our next move. What do you suggest?"

Benjamin studied him for a few seconds, then vanished from sight around the corner of the wall. The briefcase on the table was mostly forgotten as the board members watched him or talked among themselves. One of them raised a hand and whispered something into Natasha's ear.

She shook her head slightly, her hair catching the light nicely. "You raise a fair point Jesse. I propose that I ask the board members to leave the room, you destroy the briefcase and money, destroy the force field, and we terminate the simulation. That way there will be no immediate...threat to the microphone. Is that reasonable?"

Jesse tried to think through it, but his mind was moving so quickly. The analysis of an argument that should have come so easily to him was now difficult to focus on. Part of him was still sifting through the outrageous fantasies he'd had regarding Project Universe. The things he could create right now. Nothing was stopping him. Part of him was wondering where Benjamin had gone off to. His colleague couldn't cut the power; the simulation was self-sustaining. He couldn't change the current simulation in any way. Not to Jesse's knowledge, at any rate. His brows furrowed. To think that Benjamin, of all the people he'd ever known, would go behind his back. Unthinkable. But why else had he fled?

Well, he wouldn't be listening to any suggestions that Benjamin made when he returned. Natasha, on the other hand, had sounded logical. He ran through her words again in his head, and nodded.

"I agree with your idea, Natasha."

Obviously relieved, she turned and politely asked the board members to temporarily vacate the room. Sanchez and the female board member complied. The others hesitated. She tried shepherding them away with gentle pushes. Only one more of them left the room.

I can make them leave.

The idea caught his attention like a pebble thrown at his bedroom window. Using Project Universe to make them leave seemed appropriate. It would demonstrate further that it was a force to be reckoned with, not to be taken lightly. It would expedite Natasha's plan.

And it'll be fun.

Jesse frowned at that, but nonetheless focused on concocting an effective phrasing of his desire.

"There is a hitching post on the floor, five feet from the edge of this room," Jesse whispered into the microphone. "Twelve ropes are tied to it, each leading to a loop around each of the twelve board members. The ropes are shortening at a rate of one foot every, say, three seconds, such that the board members are being slowly but inexorably pulled toward the hitching post."

A moment later, the board members were being pulled out of the room like unruly herd animals. Jesse cringed when one of the older members stumbled, fell, and cried out. He might have broken his hip! Then he was being slid along the floor by the rope around his waist. But Jesse couldn't help but smile when a comically red-faced Irving struggled in vain against the tugging of his rope.

For the sake of the poor man on the ground, Jesse added, "Those ropes will stop shortening when they are each five feet in length. And the man who fell, any bone injury he sustained is now reversed."

The fallen man did not appear to have any relief, but it made Jesse feel better. If one thought about it, were injuries or missteps all that awful when they could be so easily undone?

He was following that train of thought when Benjamin reappeared, clutching something in one hand.

"Jesse. Look at what you are doing. You are escalating the situation, which you said you would not do. Get rid of the force field and terminate the situation. Now."

He raised both hands and trained some device on Jesse. It looked like a gun. "Or I'm going to shoot you with a tranquilizer gun."

A chill swept through Jesse at the sight of the darkness of the barrel staring him in the face. "Are you insane, Benjamin?!"

The dark-skinned man shook his head in a small movement. The gun did not waver. "I took precautions. I feared this might happen eventually to someone when they served as the operator. I never expected it would be you."

"Get that thing pointed--"

"Ah-ah!" Benjamin said, giving the weapon a meaningful jerk. "I want you to_slowly_ say that the force field doesn't exist. Then, I want you to slowly say that this simulation is terminated. Otherwise, I will shoot. I promise you that. If you say anything else, it's lights out."

Jesse was paralyzed with fear. He couldn't move. His skin felt cool and clammy. A gun was being pointed at him. It didn't matter if it was a tranquilizer gun or not. For all he knew, Benjamin was lying, and there was a true bullet in the chamber. He had to get rid of it. If he lowered the force field, he'd have even less protection; that was out of the question. There was only one appropriate course of action. He shrank in on himself, tensing the little muscle he had, before crying out as fast as he could.

"That gun doesn't exist!"

A sharp pain bit into his shoulder. A bright yellow dart was sticking out of it. It looked like a syringe. Jesse's vision immediately began to swim. He felt unsteady. Was that the shock of seeing the dart, or the drugs taking effect?

The drugs. How could there be a physiologic reaction if there were no drugs?

"There are no tranquilizer drugs in my body." His voice was distant, like someone else was talking.

Then, like he'd been slapped in the face, Jesse felt quite normal once again.

Benjamin was examining his empty hands, his mouth open in surprise. Natasha was glaring at Jesse with something like fear in her eyes. Fear and disgust.

"You just shot me with a tranquilizer dart," Jesse muttered. He grabbed the yellow dart and plucked it out with a wince.

"YOU JUST SHOT ME. WITH A FUCKING. TRANQUILIZER DART!" he roared at Benjamin's face. He was on his feet, spittle arcing into the air.

He raised a finger, feeling righteous anger flowing through him. "Benjamin is handcuffed!"

His colleague's shoulders were wrenched back as handcuffs materialized on his wrists and bound them behind his back.

"Natasha is handcuffed!"

She lost her balance and fell with the jolt.

"The hitching post and ropes no longer exist, and all those board members are handcuffed!"

Jesse ignored the outcries as he pointed at the floor just outside of where he imagined his force field ended. "Everyone come here! Sit right there where I can see you, or you'll regret it!"

Everyone complied.

"Your ankles are manacled together and chained to the floor where you sit, with only two feet of slack."

A loud rattling of chain links filled the air as chains materialized and their slack clanked on the floor.

Jesse sighed, suddenly feeling weak. He turned to locate his fold-up metal seat, and found it lacking.

"My chair is a comfortable leather swivel chair. With armrests."

The dull gray of his chair darkened to black. The seat ballooned upward into lavish black cushioning. Armrests rose from the sides as the seat back lengthened into fine, glistening leather. The four thin legs converged and extended downward into five appendages with wheels on the ends. Jesse collapsed into it, but he did not smile at the bodily comfort he found.

"What have I done?" he whispered.

"You've gone insane, Doctor," said Mr. Williams.

"Outta your fuckin' mind," said one of the others. A younger man, Chinese. Jesse didn't know his name.

The other board members kept silent, examining the chains that bound their wrists and ankles. Others simply stared at him, wide-eyed. Jesse waited for the harsh words that were bound to come from Benjamin or Natasha. But they never came. His fellow project leads only looked at him. Benjamin with scrutiny. Natasha, her face now an impassive mask.

"I have unlimited power," Jesse said. "I can do whatever I like. I suppose I don't need the force field anymore, with you all bound. Sorry about that, but it's a necessary precaution."

He leaned toward the microphone. "The force field around me doesn't exist." He began to settle back into his chair, then reconsidered. "There's a cup of ice cold fresh water in my right hand."

The cold glass pressed against the skin of his palm and fingers as it took form. "Make it a lemonade." The translucent water took on an appealing hue. He took a sip, smacking his lips at the unexpectedly sour taste. It wasn't great lemonade. He should have specified.

"Anyone else want anything?" he asked, half-joking. He felt so tired. Maybe some of the tranquilizer drug had endured? No, that was impossible.

"I want to go home," said one of the board members. Jesse glanced at him. The man was beginning to cry.

Jesse put a palm to his forehead, overwhelmed for a moment by contesting emotions. Self-loathing. Righteousness. Superiority. Guilt.

"First things first," he said at length. "We will sort this out eventually. Right now, however, we must make sure that we will not be interrupted, that no one is going to try anything rash, and that we are all comfortable. Are those appropriate priorities, Benjamin, Natasha?"

Benjamin was motionless for a long moment, but finally nodded. Natasha stared at her wrists and gave no response. She seemed deep in thought. Jesse frowned, feeling vulnerable. What was she up to?

Jesse formulated a strategy then spoke into the microphone. "All entrances into this facility are locked and barred. All windows are made of reinforced glass, and covered on the inside with opaque black canvas. The ventilation system is the only way in, but it gently repels everything trying to enter it except for air."

"The bindings on everyone's wrists and ankles are unbreakable," he continued. "They have no locking or unlocking mechanism. They are fitted perfectly so they cannot be removed, but they have light padding on the insides so they're comfortable to wear."

"Oh, and the batteries on everyone's cell phones are now depleted."

Jesse heard more than one muffled curse at that. Good. It was smart of him to think of cell phones, the go-to cliché method of hostages leaking intel to the authorities in film.

God, was that what he thought of them as? Some type of hostage? Prisoners? How far had he fallen?

I'll set it right. I'll make everything better. I won't betray the countless hours of hard work put into Project Universe by so many bright minds. I'm the best one here for the job. Except for perhaps Natasha or Benjamin, but I can't trust them now that they're both against me. It's regrettable, but I have to do what is necessary.

"Alright," Jesse said aloud, trying to ignore the continued sobs of the crying man. "In order to set things right, it appears I'll need to make everyone forget this ever happened. That is the only way to definitively undo the damage of this incident, once I get rid of the chains and the briefcase and all of the material changes I've made. Would anyone like to volunteer for memory experimentation?"

There was a beat of silence. Then, Benjamin spoke in a slow, cold voice. "Are you God now, Jesse?"

"I will if I have to be!" Jesse returned, more hotly than he intended. "Fine, Benjamin, you'll be the lab rat!"

The man's composure shattered. "No, Jesse, no, not me! You _know_I value my mind more than almost anything else! Pick someone else! Please!"

Jesse shut his eyes and squeezed the microphone tightly in his hand. "Benjamin can't remember why he is so upset."

For a couple more seconds, Benjamin's pleading continued. It trailed off, however, and light confusion replaced the intense emotions on his face. Jesse's heart was racing again. With great trepidation, he posed a question to his colleague.

"Benjamin, why were you so upset a moment ago?"

"I...was upset? At what?"

The room was deathly still as everyone looked at Benjamin with horror.

"That's what I'm asking," said Jesse in a low voice.

"I can't remember," Benjamin said, shaking his head. He looked authentic too. Jesse had never known the man to be a great actor, or liar. Benjamin was straightforward. He spoke the truth.

"Unreal," Jesse whispered.

He really was a god. Project Universe could even modify a living brain. In Jesse's wildest imagination, he'd never thought the simulation could affect a living brain so precisely. He could change minds. He'd altered his physical reality, and now he'd altered people too. With nothing but a few words.

"That...settles that." He cleared his throat, and took another sip from his lemonade. Then he let it drop and shatter on the floor.

Jesse felt very peculiar. His thoughts felt focused, deliberate. Like a predator. He eyed the people he had chained to the floor. Natasha's face was downcast. Three of the board members were crying now. Some of the others were praying. The majority was staring at him in horror of some form or another. They broke eye contact whenever he made it. This was power. True power. Now that he knew he could crush memories, he could really do whatever he wanted and no one would be the wiser. All of his fantasies could be his. Right here. Right now. He had all the time in the world. Or rather, he would in a moment.

"The flow of time in this facility is one thousand times the normal rate, such that time seems to pass more slowly outside."

No effect to his words was apparent. He needed to be sure.

"The windows are uncovered. The window I'm pointing at is shattering outwards, as if struck from the inside by a gigantic hammer."

Cracks spider-webbed through the window in question instantaneously and a sharp retort echoed through the facility. But the shards of glass did not move. Or if they did, they moved extremely slowly. As if through impossibly thick honey, Jesse could see the broken window pushing slowly outward into the daylight. Daylight that would now last a very, very long time.

Excellent.

He stood. Get rid of unnecessary distractions. Complicating variables. "The table, briefcase, cash, and my comfortable chair no longer exist."

"Each of my prisoners' pockets are now empty."

Jesse watched as most of them patted pockets that had gone flat. He ignored their cries of anger and loss. All would be fixed in time. All of this was temporary. Any suffering that occurred would vanish when memories were erased. All he destroyed could be restored. He was in control.

"An untraceable but secure bank account exists with one million dollars in it. A debit card linked to this account is in my wallet."

He reached into his pocket to open his wallet. A new card peeked back at him.

"From the neck down, I have the physique of Arnold Schwarzenegger in his prime."

Jesse doubled over at the unexpected sensation of his muscles ballooning with strength, his skin stretching, his tendons thickening, what little fat he had condensing. His clothes tore at the places they were now too tight. Seconds later, he ducked his chin and saw his two slab-like pectoralis major muscles. With ease, he found he could flex them. Even individually. Still, they were almost cartoonishly large. Not to his taste.

"My physique is slightly less muscular."

His proportions deteriorated by five or ten percent. He did some experimental posing and flexing and reveled at the raw power he could feel in his limbs. The potential. He could rip things apart. Squeezing his fists, Jesse watched as his clenched fingers vibrated with the strength of his monstrous grip. Looking back down at the captives, he found he was a bit taller, too.

"You're sick," said one of the men with disgust. A fifty-something white man. "You're vile. Of all the people who could have been the 'operator' or whatever you schmucks call it, it was you."

"Wrong thing to say," Jesse said, stepping over to the microphone. "That man's bonds no longer exist, but he is biologically eighty-five years old."

He watched with perverse pleasure as the man's bald spot spread outward, and the few remaining hairs he had on his head whitened. Skin wrinkled. Eyes clouded. Even his stature collapsed, and a slight hunchback appeared in the man's spine. He gasped for breath at the sudden aging, placing both palms on the ground for support.

Jesse had mixed emotions at the result. On one hand, it felt wrong to see the man suffer, even if Jesse had been justified. On the other hand, the sensation of unlimited power coursing through his fit body told him that he was absolutely right. Which gave him an idea. A twisted, weird idea, but a fitting one.

"That man is now, biologically, a twenty-one year old Caucasian woman. An attractive one."

His victim could do nothing as his body warped. Two bulges appeared under his too-tight suit. His waist narrowed as his hips widened. All around, his proportions shifted slightly. His legs, his arms, his shoulders, his feet. Hair darkened to black, and long strands sprouted from his scalp to tumble neatly down his back. His lips puffed ever so slightly as they darkened in hue to red, while his face changed to that of a gorgeous young woman. The man-turned-woman suddenly clutched at her crotch. Her face was aghast at what she found there. Or rather, failed to find.

She began to speak, but cut herself off at the first syllable. Her mouth formed an O of surprise. A hand flew to her throat.

"She thinks her name is...Beth," added Jesse. "And cannot remember me changing her name."

The others observed in horror, but were evidently too wise to speak out against what had happened. Once again, Jesse reassured himself that all of this was temporary. All would be reverted once he'd had his fun.

"My other prisoners are blindfolded and have perfect earplugs in their ears."

Just like that, his prisoners were blind and deaf. Simple.

"Beth's clothes no longer exist." He inspected her beautiful nude body from afar, enjoying the feeling of his manhood thickening. Some responsible part of him spoke up. "All sexually transmissible pathogens and any traces of them no longer exist in Beth's body."

He sauntered over to Beth where she sat naked on the floor. It was a wonder she wasn't crying, he thought. With everyone else effectively senseless, Jesse felt an exhibitionist thrill even though this moment was really between only him and Beth. The perfect balance. It seemed he was inadvertently fulfilling some of his darkest sexual fantasies. He chuckled as he looked past his huge muscles to the gorgeous woman at his feet.

"Undress me."

"No," she replied.

"Please?"

A glare.

"You know, I could make you undress me. Or even make you _want_to undress me."

Beth's lip trembled at that, but she swallowed and said, "At least then it won't be of my own free will. While I'm able, I _choose_to have nothing to do with you, you twisted mother fucker. Go fuck yourself!"

Jesse had to respect her courage. Somehow though, he felt himself grow even more aroused at her resistance. He stroked his chin, considering how best to ravage this woman.

Actually, if I'm going to be indulging in some of my darkest fantasies, I may as well go all out.

At the microphone, Jesse considered the best way to phrase his unusual command. Glancing one last time at Beth's silky smooth skin, he spoke into the microphone.

"Beth is still herself in mind, but is now an anthropomorphic gray wolf. One that is extraordinarily sexually aroused."

"What the fuck?!" Beth shouted, even as a snout emerged from her face. Her teeth extended into sharp, pearly white canines. Her nostrils upturned on her now moist black nose. Her ears grew longer and pointed, her eyes startlingly yellow. Her head hair receded as gray and white fur rippled down her entire body. On her breasts, the fur was thin, and absent on her bright pink areolas and nipples. Similarly, a bright pink line demarcated the swollen lips between her legs. Beth's wolf eyes grew wide as she watched her human feet contort into the clawed paws of a wild animal. Her fingernails followed suit, becoming wicked dark claws fit for a killer. Lastly, a furry canine tail sprouted between her legs.

Jesse's eyes roamed her body with fascination as the transformation progressed, swift as it was. For future transformations, he'd have to specify the speed. He chuckled wickedly as Beth immediately plunged as many fingers into her vagina as she could to try to satisfy her arousal. Her other hand roamed her breasts, pinching and caressing wherever it went. God, he needed her.

He froze in his advances when his ears caught a low growl. It was coming from Beth. Her black lips were raised up to show her sharp fangs. Yet her eyes were closed?

Ah, Jesse realized. She's growling in pleasure, not as a threat. Still, I shouldn't do this. She's mostly wolf. She could kill me no matter how muscled I am. Unless...

With some hesitance, Jesse approached the microphone once more. He focused on ignoring both his and Beth's rampant arousal so that he could select words that he wouldn't regret later. Words to maximize his experience.

"The signal word is 'howl'. When next I speak the signal word, two things will occur. The first is that the facility will henceforth change its interior to match whatever animal I am having intercourse with. The second is that I will transform, over a period of one second, into a heavily muscled, fit, hulking, alpha male anthropomorphic gray wolf. In this form, I will retain my human mind and my ability to properly speak English."

After double-checking the format of his commands, he nodded, satisfied. On a whim, he added, "Natasha's earplugs and blindfold are removed."

I want her to see this. Maybe she'll be jealous of the excellent sex I'm going to have with Beth. Hmph, even if she's disgusted, it'll be a win for me. She had her chance when I asked her out.

Predictably, Natasha appeared incredibly surprised by the wolf-human hybrid sitting a few feet away from her.

"The best is yet to come," he assured her confidently as he made his way toward his prize.

"Please, fuck me Doctor! Please please please I need you! Make it stop!" Beth growled out as she continued to vigorously rub herself between her furry vaginal lips.

Jesse grinned. It didn't get much better than this. He started to unbutton his mostly-shredded clothing, then shrugged.

"Howl."

Jesse's body exploded outward with fur and flesh. The remains of his clothes tore further, falling from his monstrous form. Immediately, he found himself looking down a canine muzzle at his bitch from a much taller height. He felt himself beginning to fall, but swiftly shifted his feet and flexed his powerful core muscles. Now, he stood on the balls of his feet. His _paws._They were huge, too! Straight out of a horror film! As he was glancing down, he couldn't help but notice his manhood was now a shocking red color, very girthy, and almost a foot long.

Baring his teeth in a lupine grin, he lunged at Beth and gingerly pressed the sharp canines of his snout around her neck. He started to probe by feel for her entrance, but Beth hastened the process by grabbing his cock and sticking the tip right where it needed to be. Then he contracted the beastly muscles of his lower back and rocketed into her hot depths.

The first wave of pleasure was all-consuming, hot, urgent. Nothing else mattered but the feral thrill, the deep primal satisfaction tearing its way through his body from the tip of his red cock to the rough pads of his fingers and toes. Jesse's body shuddered and contracted in its grasp. When it reached his throat, he was helpless to the clenching of his fearsome jaw. His involuntary basso growl was smothered in the thick fur of Beth's neck.

Electricity danced along his manhood as he withdrew slightly. The second plunge sent another wave of fire through his huge body. His ears, subconsciously rotated forward, caught the sound of higher-pitched growls coming from the bitch he'd claimed. He bit deeper into her neck in response, but not enough to tear the skin beneath. With every thrust the storm of pleasure grew. Beth rocked her body in time with his, growling and snuffling all the while. He grabbed her relatively small back between his massive paw-hands. Using his thumbs and their claws, he worked her tender breasts. The rest of his fingers, he put to work squeezing and massaging her muscled back.

Beth's passionate growls increased in volume. He felt her claws squeezing the fur atop his bulging biceps and shoulder muscles. Strong, she might be. But he was definitely the dominant one in this coupling. He was her alpha. She was powerless before him. He was bigger, stronger. Undeniably in control. To emphasize his point, he let out a loud, rumbling sound halfway between a snarl and a roar. Then he dug his toe claws into the ground for extra leverage and thrust his red member especially deep into her.

Yet despite the onslaught of fiery pleasure, Jesse was distracted. He'd felt the tickle of leaves beneath his paw pads, he was sure of it. His claws had dug into soil. His eyes shot open.

Trees. Trees were everywhere. They were on the slope of a deciduous forest in autumn.

A light breeze shook the trees, setting more brown leaves to fall. They made quiet crinkling sounds as they struck the layer of fresh autumn leaves covering the ground. Moss grew on the trunks of some of the tall trees. One or two had hollows in them.

Jesse's ears twisted this way and that as they tried to follow the many sounds of the forest environment. Chattering squirrels. A woodpecker's percussion. Birdsong high in the canopy. And the smells! Most of them he could not identify, pungent as they were, but a couple he could. Leaves rotting. Moist tree bark. So many smells to set his nose nose twitching.

Incongruously, the console of the testing room with its microphone seemed to emerge out of the leaf litter. The wires trailed down into the leaves and were gone from sight. Benjamin, Natasha, and the twelve board members were where he'd left them, bound and seemingly chained to the soil itself.

Perfect, Jesse thought as he resumed his forceful humping of Beth's slit. And because I only commanded the simulation to change the appearance of the facility, no functionalities or variables should be affected.

Fucking a wolf as a wolf seemed so much more _right_in their natural habitat. Gone was the sterile testing room with its white walls and silence. Now they were in the wild, life's cradle. Here, it would be so natural to growl out his passions, or to spill his seed into his bitch's eager womb.

Reinvigorated, Jesse grabbed Beth's waist and hoisted her into the air as he might a child. She tossed her head every which way, lost in the throes of the feral pounding he was giving her. He stopped only long enough to press her back against the nearest tree trunk and position himself in a stable stance. Then he resumed claiming her with as fast a rhythm as he dared. The soft fur of her tail brushed against his furry testicles. His end was beginning to approach, so he intended to make the most of it.

Their wolf snouts were so close that he could feel the hot exhalations of her breath from her nose and mouth against his. His longer tongue darted out, tasting her moist nose and the roof of her mouth. Kissing properly was out of the question with her anatomy, but 'kissing' her in this way was almost as sensual. It felt right, which was more important. It was the way wolves showed affection, he imagined.

To his surprise and pleasure, Beth returned the gesture by exploring his mouth with her own tongue even as he fucked her against the tree trunk like an insatiable monster. It was a good thing he'd specified that she was extremely aroused, or else he might have caused physical trauma to her insides with his thick wolf member. As it was, they couldn't be more perfectly matched. Her vagina had been moist and dilated in anticipation. At the moment it was positively dripping with a sexual juice that was two parts her natural lubrication and one part his pre-cum. He felt it dripping onto his left paw as he fucked her.

Of all his secret fantasies, this form of sex had to be one of the highest on the list. He possessed the virile strength of an apex predator. He had the visceral pleasure of dominating another creature like the animals they were. But he also had his humanity's keen intellect and clarity of mind. He could fully appreciate the wonder of what he was experiencing.

Jesse glanced at Natasha as his hips continued to squelch his thick red penis in and out of Beth's swollen folds. In all likelihood, he would be taking Natasha next. Jesse could have anyone he wanted now. Could make them want him back, or instill false memories of them being together for years. Why not take the woman he'd pursued the most in the past? Though his attempts had been half-hearted, now he wouldn't take no for answer. She would be his.

Natasha's face was not what he expected. It was still impassive. If anything, she wore a calculating expression. Not the disgust or fear that Jesse had expected.

"How would you like to go next, Natasha?" he snarled in his deep voice.

No response.

He might have become even more worried about what she was up to, had he not been in the form of an absurdly muscled wolf-man. Besides, he'd laid down precautions before having his fun. He would be safe and in control for the foreseeable future.

Satisfied, Jesse gave himself completely to the pleasures of the flesh. He sped up his rhythm. He squeezed Beth's tender lupine breasts and waist more firmly. He pushed her harder against the unforgiving bark of the tree trunk. The soil was cool against his paws as he dug in deeper. As his breathing escalated, his sensitive nose caught more of the forest scents. Beth's unrestrained growls were music to his pointed ears.

"I'm getting...close to...the end," he panted into one of Beth's ears.

Beth replied in a wordless snarl of pleasure. She opened her eyes to capture him with her fierce gaze. She wanted him to explode inside her. He could see the need in those eyes.

"You were fairly thorough," Natasha abruptly said. "You almost attained perfect control."

"Wha--arrr..." Jesse tried to reply, but his body had other ideas. The muscles of his groin contracted, overriding his thoughts with sexual pleasure.

"But you failed." Natasha sounded like she was smiling, but Jesse's eyes were squeezed shut as his mind ignited. He could feel something swelling in his cock, pressing against the wet walls of Beth's canine vagina.

Waves of fiery pleasure washed over him, negating all thoughts Jesse might have except for one: how incredibly good he felt. He felt his penis spurting globs of semen deep into Beth's body. He felt his grip involuntarily tighten, his voice rasp out quiet growls, his bestial fingers and toes curling.

Though bound by chains and witness to an unspeakably twisted act, Natasha was apparently not powerless. Her small frame rose as she drew in a full breath. Then she shouted past Jesse, casting her voice at the microphone.

"Jesse is paralyzed!"