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Legion of Pain

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Chapter VII - The Gimp

“Wilhelm Whip,” Elliot began, keeping his back to the team. “Otherwise known as ‘the Gimp’.”

On screen was the image of a large, muscled human with a large, thick brow and large, full lips. Green eyes were framed by heavy bags and russet hair was cropped short into a single streak down his head like a Mohawk. The man was enormous, very big for a human and nearly the size of Felix without any enhancements.

“According to the FOSRIA databases, Wilhelm has the power to absorb the damage and pain of those around him,” Elliot continued. “Within a certain radius, if you get hit, he will take the damage instead. Apparently, there’s no ‘off switch’ to his powers so for the better part of his life, he was incapable of sleeping because of this ability. Instead of trying to control or turn off his powers, however, he started to seek out ways of heightening it, the sick fuck. That’s when he found the Red Light District and the kinkier parts of American society.”

Jacob grunted and rubbed the back of his neck in exasperation. “I’d say we should be protecting the right to freedom of expression here but I get a feeling that with ball gag in every mouth, no one would be expression anything that often.” He glanced at the screens, deep blue eyes scanning the information there. “What made him turn to the life of villainy?”

“Same reason that he got kinky,” answered Elliot. “His lust for pain couldn’t be satisfied by what could be offered willingly by society so he started seeking out more and more hedonistic pleasures. That’s how he got involved in crime. No more pleasure and pain than in the dangerous world of crime. He joined a mob at one point, basically being their muscle, then he branched out on his own after he was kicked out for purposefully letting the other goons get captured or ‘hurt’ just so that he could absorb their pain. Apparently, the other henchmen labelled him a ‘distraction’.”

On the screen were images of how the Gimp appeared in his ‘costume’. There was no doubt that there Wilhelm Whip was definitely a leather fetishist. Just looking at the man’s skimpy, tight-fitting, black short-shorts, thick black boots and figure-hugging sleeveless shirt made Caleb feel very and uncomfortable and this was only from looking at the man on screen. That Gimp’s mask he wore was even more disturbing particularly with that zipper placed over his lips which gave him a perpetual smile that matched his wide-eyes stare. “Dressed like that, I can imagine why,” the young wolf muttered.

“About a month ago, he was captured after holding up a similar office with similar tactics,” Elliot said. “Only then, he wasn’t supported by highly-trained and well-equipped soldiers. Almost seemed like the guy purposefully got himself captured because when Tibia vanished, he disappeared with him.”

“Then it goes without saying that the two of them are likely related,” David concluded. “There’s too many coincidences to say otherwise.”

Caleb glanced over to the other members of Arsenal who were seated to the left; some of them looked dejected while others were deeply focused on the debriefing. He could only imagine what they went through. To undergo a very public defeat like that so soon after Tibia had wiped the floor with them was like rubbing salt on poorly-healed wounds.

“If he’s going to follow the same pattern, he’s going to come back an elephant with an army that could potentially infect a lot of people including our men.”

One look at Lars and Caleb knew that his boyfriend was worried about being reduced to such a primal state again. The expressions on the rest of Arsenal were wide and varied. Beside Lars, Mary’s features were completely unreadable, her cornflow blue eyes focused on the screen. More than ever, she looked like a ‘Barbie’ doll. Madman was clenching and relaxing his paws over and over again, all his focus on the muscles there. Beside the massive hyena, Ben was staring intently at Elliot, a cold, calculation look on his features. Rhia was pacing back and forth behind the entire crew while Bren was stiff and impassive as ever. It was clear that all of them were shaken by these developments. They had been on the losing end of some of the Gene Stealer’s plots previously but never had it affected them so personally.

“Reaper, think you can make more of those kinetic barriers and give them to the members of Arsenal?” David asked.

Jacob, arms crossed, inclined his head slightly. “I should be able to, yeah.”

“Why the fuck didn’t we get them earlier then?” Madman snarled, his frustration oozing out of him like a seething, dark aura.

“Because they’re extremely expensive to make and highly experimental. Our attack on Tibia was the first field test they actually saw. You have any idea how difficult it is to compress a kinetic barrier that’s meant to protect an entire spaceship into something that can be mounted on your chest?”

The hyena still growled in frustration but sat back and fell silent.

“That should help protect us from any unwanted transformations,” continued David. “The next question is figuring out why the Gimp and the Gene Stealers would even want blood samples from Arsenal.”

“It wasn’t just a pinprick either,” Mary chimed in, her features still unreadable. “They extracted what must have been several blood bags worth from each of us. At least ten from each.”

“That’s should’ve been fatal!” Caleb exclaimed.

“But we’re also empowered with some degree of baseline powers since returning to the field, remember.”

There, Jacob’s eyes narrowed. It was pretty clear what he was thinking and the same thoughts were spinning through Caleb’s mind as well. Perhaps there was more to Tibia’s reluctance to give them the Original Serum than just taunting them. The Gene Stealers didn’t want any of them cured using Caleb’s powers because to do so would reduce them to their previous state, free of the baseline powers and mostly other enhancements. However, since they were able to train themselves to return to their original forms, the supposed ‘blessing’ had turned more into a curse. Were the Gene Stealers harvesting them?

“I need to ask Felix and the other boneheads if they were subjected to examinations,” Jacob said, turning to leave. “Constant blood tests and what not. I’ll have the shields ready for you by the morning. Best if everyone stay on guard. I’ll send AEGIS undercover agents to keep an eye out on all of you.”

“We’re not sending anyone after the Gimp?” Lars demanded, shooting to his feet. “That bastard strung me up and bled me like a fucking pig! I’m going to -” He grunted, shutting one eye and grimacing. Blue flames were shooting out from the corners of his lips and his body was heaving bigger and bigger beneath his costume. After a few seconds, he managed to fight back the transformation.

“I’m already working on it,” Jacob said, offering Lars an encouraging smile. “You guys just take some time to recover. We can’t go at this half-cocked because if we do, we might jump into another trap.” He headed towards the door but then stopped before passing through. “And Lars?”

The doberman perked his ears but didn’t respond.

“It’s not your fault. There was no way you could’ve known that the Gimp was waiting for you. None of you could have.”

Then he stepped through and vanished behind the sliding door.

David grunted. “That’s his opinion.” His eyes switched to Lars, a withering gaze that send the doberman parking himself back on the seat. “What did I tell you before? Our target is the Gene Stealers. We’re not to go saving people that isn’t Gene Stealer-related.”

“But this was related!” Lars protested weakly.

“But you didn’t know that when you wen charging in!” roared David, shaking the room. “From now on, no more heroism. Not until you clear it from me, got that!?”

The doberman ducked his head and nodded faintly. “Yessir…” came the soft whisper.

“Good.” David huffed and crossed his arms, closing his eyes and looking like he was trying to fight down his fury. “We can’t do much now. We all need to cool off. So everyone head back home with your AEGIS escorts. Be ready for Sunday as well.”

This was the first time Caleb had heard of anything happening this weekend and his ears swivelled towards his father. “What’s happening on Sunday?”

“Hank’s plan.”

That was enough to inject some excitement back into Caleb’s heart. After the disaster that was today, he was sure that the team would be enthusiastic to repair their reputation in the eyes of the public with the display in two days. Sadly, the air was still heavily dejected as Arsenal began to rise from their seats and shuffle out of Elliot’s man cave. Most of that depression was clearly coming from Lars whose mood was likely deepened by the weight of blame.

Caleb hurried to catch up with his boyfriend as they left David and Elliot.

“Hey man,” he said, catching his boyfriend’s shoulder. “Don’t feel so bad. We all screw up. Remember that time I got mind controlled and turned on the whole team?”

Lars gave him a lopsided smile. “Thanks, Caleb, but this is different. I really fucked up.” The brawny, brown-eyed doberman looked like he was on the verge of tears. “It was all on me, you know? I just wanted to rescue someone after that disgraceful show against Tibia and then getting you flying halfway across the world just to find a way to cure me. I only ended up making this worse.” Lars then puffed out his chest and shook his head. “But we learn from our mistakes. First thing I learned about being a hero.” He gave Caleb a weak smile. “How’d the game go, by the way?”

Glad for the topic to have shifted, Caleb puffed out his chest and poked a thumb against his broad pectorals. “What do you think? We fucking won! We’re in the finals, bro!”

Immediately, Lars’ features brightened. “Fucking-A!” He held out his paw and Caleb seized it tightly, their biceps bulging in a very manly grip. The show of testosterone was not missed by anyone passing down the broad, metal hallways of the Cornucopia. “That’s some awesome, fucking news, Cale! What was the score in the end?”

“41-31. The Muskrats put up a hell of a fight. Their offence was goddamn killer. But we pulled through in the end.”

“Sorry I missed it. But that’s something we learned early on, right? Two men don’t make a team.” He winked at Caleb brightly, the good-old-friendly Lars popping up through the shroud of darkness. “We gotta go celebrate!”

“Hero Taco?”

“Where else?” laughed Lars.

Then Mary came sliding between them. Their arms immediately parted, making way for her like two, muscled intersecting gates opening for their queen.

“You might want to tell Lars that he’s no longer captain of the football team,” she said slyly.

Caleb might as well have been struck by one of the lightning bolts from Sturmspalter. “Mary!” he cried.

Lars looked broken, shattered. “What…? I’m not captain anymore…? Who…?”

His tail tucking between his legs, ears folded back and a pained look on his muzzle, Caleb barely managed to squeak out, “Me…”

“What!?” roared the doberman, bringing the rest of Arsenal wheeling back around in surprise. “You’re the captain now!? Who the fuck decided that!?”

Caleb quickly explained that during the game, he had to improvise and may have taken impromptu command of the entire team - not just the offence but the defence as well - and that resulting in the team and coaches deciding that Caleb should be the new captain in lieu of Lars’ absence.

“I was being held hostage but a fucking gimp!” Lars cried.

“I know! I know!” Caleb pleaded, holding up his paws. “But they don’t know that…”

“But your dad did.”

Lars bore his fanged and charged straight back into Elliot’s room. Caleb hurried after while Arsenal followed close by. He followed Lars into the room itself while Mary and the others poked their heads around the door frame to avoid getting caught in any of the crossfire.

“You kicked me off the team!?” Lars accused, pointing directly at David.

Feral Steel turned, a look of surprise on his face. “What? No. You screwed up, yes, but you’re an integral part of Arsenal and -”

“Not that team. The football team! Caleb just told me I’m no longer captain!”

David’s features softened and he crossed his arms in that very fatherly way that meant there was no means to convince him from his path. “Ah. That. Yes. After speaking with Coach Davis and after a unanimous decision from the Raptors -”

“No. No! Don’t give me that bullshit!” barked Lars, jabbing a finger at David’s chest. “This is about you using your authority to propel your son to captain!”

“The fact that Caleb is my son has nothing to do with the decision. Frankly, Lars, your performance on the field has been lacking. The purpose of getting you to switch positions is to expand your skill set but you seem focused only on throwing the ball like a quarterback. Caleb has -”

“Don’t give me that bullshit! The only reason I’ve been holding back is because if I try my hardest, I’d kill someone!”

David gave him a steely stare. “Then you should’ve tried harder to find a way to regulate your powers. Face it, Lars, in football, you’re a one-trick pony. You just catch the ball and you throw. After that, you just stand there and pray. You don’t jump into the scrimmage and support your blockers. You don’t run interference. You don’t do anything but throw the ball! That’s not a quarterback. That’s a puppy just waiting for their master to throw the ball back to them! So if you think you’re still worthy of being captain of the football team, tell me right now and I’ll happily bring you back in front of the rest of the team and put it up for a vote!”

“That’s what a quarterback is meant to do! I’m supposed to command the field, throw the ball where I need it to go and be able to think on me feet! No one else on the team can do that better than I can!”

“No one until now,” David growled fiercely. “The entire team saw how Caleb took command in the second half of the game.” He quickly raised his paw, silencing any protest from Lars. “And this has nothing to do with you not attending the game. The team knows that sometimes players can’t make it for one reason or another. We live in a world of supers. Shit happens. But the reason they kicked you from being captain has nothing to do with how you play as a quarterback. You play the quarterback excellently.”

“Then why!?” Lars pleaded, nearly breaking into tears.

“Because Caleb just proved to be a better leader. Being the quarterback does not automatically make you captain of the football team.”

The big, angry doberman fumed and not for the first time, his body began to heave and pulse as he fought the instincts within him. Elliot was hiding himself behind his chair and even David was starting to ready himself for an assault. Caleb had to defuse the situation. He padded over to Lars and placed a paw on his shoulder.

“Come on, man -”

“Don’t!” Lars snapped, knocking his paw away. It was forceful - enough to push Caleb back a few steps. “Just… don’t. I don’t need your pity.”

Lars spun and stormed out of the room. His last stomp just past Elliot’s door was enough to cause a dent in the metal floor.

“I should rethink about holding these meeting in my room,” Elliot muttered.

Caleb sighed heavily. One problem may have been resolved but two others reared their ugly heads. That exasperation turned to frustration as he whirled around to face Mary. “Why?” was all he could muster.

Back straight and eyes sharp, Mary stepped out from behind the door frame to meet him. “Because, knowing you, you would’ve just stewed on this over the weekend, ‘forgetting’ to tell Lars until practice on Monday. He’d find out, turn his anger on you and then you’d go right back into your little corner, forgetting the fact that you and he had sex.”

David immediately went rigid and Caleb realised he hadn’t told his father about what had happened.

“You what!?” roared the very emotional, very big, very scary soon-to-be-werewolf.

Caleb took a step back away from his had, paws up in surrender. “If it’s any consolation, he sucked me off and we made a mess of Jake’s couch?”

“Just a little,” David snarled, eyes flashing red.

“Perhaps I should also remind you that tomorrow, Jacob will be coming to your house to cook dinner?” Mary chimed in. “Oh and Caleb has also decided to hire Hank to be his manager and also as Lillian’s campaign manager?”

The final nail in the coffin. David Hale’s eyes turned pure red, his fangs were bared and his hackles rose as if struck by lightning. Caleb visibly shrank, tail so far between his legs he was pretty sure he would never get it out.

All he could do was turn towards Mary and demand, “Why!?”

******

Pain was something that Wilhelm Whip was very accustomed to. One could even say that he was one of the few masters on the subject. Few could find the true pleasure he did in pain; whether it was inflicting it upon others or suffering through it himself. Though it was debatable whether or not he was really ‘suffering’ through any pain that he felt. For Wilhelm, pain was just another sensation that his body processed. After growing up absorbing the pain from others, his body had naturally developed a certain tolerance or threshold. That meant that to be able to truly feel pain, he had to experience something beyond that limit. It was the only way he could truly feel something. The faintest touch or even the most excruciating pleasure of orgasm were denied him as that simply did not meet the extremes that he needed to register any sort of sensation.

It was what made him a master of pain.

True agony did not come just with the instant of agony but also the build up to that terrible moment, the teasing, the torment and the uncertainty. Anticipation was just as painful as a torn limb or pinched nerve.

“True pain is not felt at the moment of infliction,” he rumbled to himself, his voice muffled by his mask. “It is felt after when hope is at its brightest.”

“An interesting hypothesis,” Spider Queen cooed. The arachnid glided soundlessly around him, sliding her fingers across his broad shoulders. She quietly observed Shark Tamer tinkering away at his enormous console. “I would have thought that hope makes pain fade.”

The Gimp grinned beneath his mask. “Oh no. Hope may alleviate pain but it is when that pain returns and you come to the crushing realisation that the agony did not simply ‘go away’ that pain is at its greatest. There is no greater torment than realising that the journey to release is so much longer than you first thought.” Beneath his mask, he licked his lips. He lifted his hands, forming claws in the air and wiggling his fingers as he imagined all the colours of pain flowing between them. “There are so many flavours of pain. Fear. Uncertainty. Hopelessness. Desperation. All of it seasons pain in their own way.”

Shark Tamer slammed on a key with triumph and threw his webbed hands jubilantly into the air. “And that, my dear Wilhelm, is exactly why you are an invaluable resource!” He spun on his chair, facing them with a broad, toothy grin. “That and the fact that you retrieved for us ample samples of Arsenal’s blood, allowing me to analyse their reactions to the Gen 4 serum!”

“What have you discovered?” Spider Queen asked.

The scientist Gene Stealer’s beady, black eyes glimmered with ambition. “Our Gen 4 serum is more exactly what we needed to push our experiments to the next level. We are on the cusp of creating the Generation 5!” He spun once more towards his screens, spreading his arms wide, his grin matching the gesture. “We have samples here from different sources! A pre-existing super! An Outsider! A divine agent! And a fur that has been cloned multiple times! A werewolf and even a Gen 1! We already have samples from the average human and fur but this, this completes our collection! With just a little more analysis and tests, we can proceed with the final stages of our plan!”

Spider Queen smiled darkly. “Perfect. We are close now.” She gently leaned her weight against the Gimp’s shoulder, her lips hovering over his ear. “Are you ready, my dear?”

The Gimp grinned beneath his mask. “Yes, my queen.”

From beneath her flowing dress, she produced a long, thin syringe and left the needle hovering just an inch over the Gimp’s exposed neck. He could just feel it tantalising the hairs on his neck, leaving him yearning for it.

“You deserve this,” whispered the Gene Stealer. “Congratulations.”

Then she plunged the syringed into his neck, pushing the plunger in a moment later.

“Yeeeeeees!” the Gimp moaned.

A powerful, stinging sensation burned from the site of injection like Spider Queen had thrust molten lava right into his veins. Upon his request, he had asked Shark Tamer to avoid the flood of endorphins that would have made the sensation of cells changing, bones snapping and muscles contorting pleasurable. He wouldn’t need chemical enhancements to derive pleasure from pain. One of the reasons the shark was in the same room as him now. The prime Gene Stealer was very interested in his transformation. If the Gimp knew about anything apart from pain, it was showmanship.

Blood was immediately rushing to his groin. The burning was far deeper than any superficial agony he could have ever experienced. Over years of self-abuse and use of his powers, he had developed a tolerance towards pain. Those that examined him often likened it to a heroin addiction. That first ‘fix’ was always the best but ever subsequent one had diminishing returns so he was always searching for that blissful agony that would see him mimicking the first time. Every scratch, cut, broken bone or bruise only seemed to throb on the surface of his flesh. This was something entirely different to anything he had ever experienced before. He could feel his cells undulating from the injection site, morphing and twisting into something else.

And he was loving every moment of it.

The serum was spreading and the purple lump that had formed when Spider Queen had shot him with the serum was starting to swell. Along side it, his own member was similarly starting to engorge. He fell to his knees, panting and moaning while clutching one hand against the wound that was quickly starting to push his fingers wide apart. Muscles were cramping and releasing in rapid succession. Since it was against his neck, he could feel his throat muscles spasming and cutting off his airways. His eyes rolled into the back of his eyes as he desperately gasped for air. Torture it may have been to most others but for him, it was just another bit of agony to add to the tiered cake that had him slavering with lust.

The tightening seeped further and further into his already thick neck. The corded flesh expanded, rapidly consuming the swelling lump beneath his fingers. His oddly supple skin cracked, stretch marks appearing as his flesh was pulled by the growth. Those angry, purplish lines quickly faded into a silvery colour before turning completely white with strain. As they grew, a sound like leather being stretched filled the Gene Stealer’s base. It certainly did not come from any of his leather gear tearing. The origin of the noise came from his skin rapidly hardening, growing rough and taut while his muscles simultaneously pushed and pulled. Two opposing forces were fighting a heavily tied war; his skin was hardening to try and contain the growth of the muscles beneath while his neck rapidly grew, trying to burst free of the constraints of his oppressive flesh. In the midst of it all was his poor windpipe that was being constricted and then released over and over again.

His other hand was shamelessly placed over his erect member, rubbing it rapidly through his leather shorts.

“Fascinating,” Shark Tamer mulled. “He is somehow controlling the transformation through sheer force of will. I know I slowed down the rate of transformation upon his request but he is pulling it back down to a crawl! Amazing!”

The Gimp gasped and his bulbous neck seized up. He fell onto his back, groin thrusting into the air as the bones along his neck cracked and snapped. Each burst was a flash of pain that should have left him paralysed or dead. Whether the wild bucking of his hips was out of instinct or a conscious move was beyond his comprehension. It took all he had to focus on the seething pain as his neck stretched upwards, adding length to the width of the vital muscles. The deep throbbing from his veins crawled up from his neck into the back of his head. He could feel the blood vessels expanding and pushing up against his rapidly hardening skin, seeping up against his already-skin-tight black mask and adding more pressure against the leather.

Another gasp and the relief of being able to breath rushed through his body, somewhat soothing the burning pain that was wrapping his body. For a second, some primal part of him wondered if that was it, if it was all over. His conscious mind stoked the flames of that naivete only because he knew what would come next.

Pain.

Pain as the serum shot into his skull and began forcing the bones to grow into a new shape. That spark of hope was immediately crushed and he let out an ear-splitting wail; one that was founded on agony but also tainted with the chorus of ecstasy. The force of the serum pushed his skull outward from the inside, forcing his lips, teeth and nose to slowly and tortuously forward. It felt like someone’s tiny hand had seized the back of his eyeballs and were forcing them back while someone was taking a hammer to his skull and forcefully reforging it. All the while, he was met bet by the resistance of his leather mask. He shut his eyes tight, tears streaming down his face even though his cock was harder than it had ever been before. His screams were muffled by his lips pressing up against the zipper of his mask, the delicate flesh being pressed against the metal with no signs of stopping. That hammer that was smashing his skull began pounding at his nose. With each, painful throb, he thrust his hips, precum leaking through even the leather.

Rrrrrrip!

The Gimp’s eyes sprang upon. The sound of his mask tearing was so alien to his ears, leaving startled. Right before his eyes, piercing his warped features, was a single horn about three inches tall and half as thick.

“Yes!” he moaned. “More! MORE!”

Each demand was met with a surge of length and width from the horn, spreading the opening in his mask all the more. At last, he had reached that point where the pain was not so alien but welcome. Like bathing in a scalding bath; the first few moments was met with tentative dips of the toe until at last his body had gotten used to the temperature and now he craved it. A roar split from his lips as the zipper was forced apart by his growing muzzle. His leather mask tore right down the middle, leaving room for his thick brow to surge out alongside the secondary horn that emerged just before the first and foremost one. There was relief it at last being free of the constraining leather but he also felt a little naked. Thankfully, his flesh began tightening, hardening into a white, leathery hide over his supple features.

Wilhelm Whip moaned, running his hands over his new features, licking his lips with his new, long, flexible tongue that could curl effortlessly about halfway up his new horn. He allowed his hands to glide along his muzzle, over his fierce nostrils, over his high cheekbones and then down towards his rough, angled jawline. Following the line of his jaw down toward his neck, he found no evidence of the injection sight save for his new features atop his still-human frame.

That would not be the case for long, however.

The throbbing returned with a vengeance even if it did not originate from his head. At least now, his brain was free to bask in the waves of his body’s agony as the thick veins began pushing against his already firm pectorals. Again, his breathing was constrained as his pectorals inflated only this time, it was restrained by his of leather shirt. He pawed fruitlessly against his fabric, enjoying the feeling of the leather resisting his expanding flesh. His nipples began to chafe as they were forced to point downward with the continued expansion. Broad shoulders grew even bigger, the hems of his sleeveless shirt sliding further and further towards his neck and seemingly shrinking against his broadening deltoids until it almost looked like he was wearing a black singlet. This was complimented by his back which was wracked with spasms. His spine snapped, forcing him to jerk at an odd angle as it grew foot after foot. The pain was bliss to him, his body drowning in endorphins. He was drooling uncontrollably, a high pitched whining rising from his throat like a kettle on the boil.

No matter how strong leather may have been, it was not enough to resist the strength of his growth.

His chest erupted from his leather garment, revealing solid slabs of striated muscles with each individual band clearly visible on the massive shelves. His nipples were pointing directly down and the valley between his pectorals were so deep that to plunge into them was to experience absolute darkness.

The Gimp’s fingers twisted and curled. He could feel the change starting to seep down his arms. He let out a staccato of ‘ah’s’. Muscles tore and regrew from his biceps, pushing their weight against his bones. Not to be outdone, those very same bones stretched and rapidly expanded giving him a feeling like someone was injecting rapidly-cooling liquid metal into his arms. Thick veins pulsated beneath his flesh and even when his skin hardened into that same, white hide, those veins were still visible like vines along a marble wall. His forearms tensed, fingers curling into fists, while the expanded into four times their size and length, pushing them well past his knees; at least for the moment. A roar erupted from his lips, his hands forced into opening as they were packed with size and mass. His nails hardened into milky-white slabs, each finger breaking and growing before resetting.

Unable to help himself, the Gimp used his newly formed hands to seize his own nipples, squeezing down on them with a force like a vice. He roared again, thrusting his hips even as his belly began to bloat and expand. Where once there had been a solid eight-pack of muscles, mass began pooling against his belly. The remnants of his shirt were forced apart like peel of a banana being split wide. His lower torso widened, making him look more like a solid marble slab. Though softer than his pectorals, his abdominals were still visible against his widened belly. That only made him twist his nipples all the more. Like turning the dials of a machine, each twist caused more and more of the transformation to push towards his lower body.

Having his erect dick constrained by his clothing was agony but it was thanks to Shark Tamer’s genius that the change bypassed his competitively small penis and began seeping towards his legs. With all the agony forced there, he had little leverage to keep thrusting so all he could do was roll onto his stomach and press his cock against the hard floor, grinding against it in a desperate attempt to keep the pleasure going even as the pain of his expanding thighs against his constricting leather chaps was growing.

“It hurts!” he cried. “It hurts so gooood!”

With that cry, his quads burst from his pants and he was once again met by that rush of relief that made the oncoming pain all the more delicious.

He moaned, kicking his legs wildly as if he were urging the change to go faster as he could feel himself getting closer and closer to orgasm. His calves began throbbing, pushing up against his boots, his toes pressing up against the confined of his steel-toed footwear. Even as the bone and flesh was pressed up against the hidden metal, his growth would not stop. The seams of his boots ripped, white-leathery flesh revealed beneath. The steel cap of his boots went flying and Spider Queen had to dodge aside, letting out a laugh, as she was almost decapitated by the flying metal. The Gimp wiggled his new toes, bones crackling with their new mass.

Then came the coup de grace.

With nothing else left to change, all the pain and agony came flooding towards the Gimp’s cock.

Wilhelm Whip propped himself up on his new arms and legs, crouched on the ground on all fours. Even without touching his cock, he could feel the formula spreading from all corners of his body straight towards his member. The length throbbed, grew, filled with the familiar sensation of rising to erection even though it was already full and ready as a human. The remnants of his leather chaps was pushed to their limit, stretching and groaning just as the Gimp was. Face contorted in pleasure, the Gimp grinned savagely as the culmination of all his pleasure came to this one moment.

But he didn’t want it to end just yet.

A new sense of awareness filled him and as he became increasingly aware of the leather remnants breaking, he was overcome by a desire for more leather. Black straps emerged from the ground around him. They slapped against his flesh, tightening against his muscles and adding more pain to his pleasure.

“Yes!” he moaned.

The new restraints squeezed tight against his biceps, his thighs and even his chest and neck.

“Yes!”

His cock was tearing the leather around his groin apart.

“YES!”

With that final cry, his enormous member came shooting out from what remained of the ‘old’ Gimp in an explosion of cum. Wilhelm Whip threw his head back, a howl of ecstasy filling the entire chamber. His scream shook the various test tubes and bottles that littered Shark Tamer’s laboratory even as his cum splattered splattered across the screens. The Gimp’s entire body was thrown into the orgasm; arms quaking and toes curling even those the summoned leather constrained his movements. All the pressure and blood in his body was pushed into his dick and with another cry, he shot his second load; one so powerful that it sailed over Shark Tamer’s consoles and splattered into the back wall.

Black leather sprang up from the ground beneath him, wrapping around the base of his cock and squeezing hard. He bit his lower lip, letting out a moan as the flood of his seed was momentarily stalled by the added pressure. It was a temporary measure, however, for not a second later, his cum came shooting out of his massive 18 inch cock and came blasting out with enough force to knock him back a full foot, the leather strap unwinding from around his long, black cock like a wild fire hose.

The Gimp collapsed onto his side, choking back moans as his cock continued to burst with seed over and over again from his enormous, melon-sized balls.

All the while, Shark Tamer and Spider Queen watched with mild interest as the terrifying Wilhelm Whip was reduced into unconsciousness.

“I don’t know what’s worse,” mulled the arachnid Gene Stealer. “That he will never again experience this level of sexual satisfaction…” Her emerald eyes switched to her fellow Gene Stealer. “… or that you purposefully designed your serum to give him the most explosive release he will ever have in his life knowing full well that he will forever chase that unobtainable nirvana.”

Shark Tamer just gave her his most toothy smile.

******

Despite being over 300 pounds of pure lupine muscle and oozing testosterone, Caleb still found himself ‘grounded’ on multiple counts. Not just from one parent either. David was fuming over the fact that his son had unprotected sex not only with Lars - who had been the source of fury moments before judgement came - but also because he had sex with Felix Cameron, the ex-bonehead. On top of that, the news of Hank coming in as Caleb’s manager had set David off like a cannon. When Lillian had heard about Hank’s role in her campaign, she was similarly as infuriated but executed it far worse than David’s open conflagration; hers was one of silent fury.

So Caleb found himself confined to the house just hours after he had won the big game for them. Dinner was so tense that when breakfast came the following morning, Caleb had purposefully avoided going down to the kitchen alongside the rest of the family. Only once everyone had eaten did he even dare to leave his room and get himself something to eat. Of course his mother had heard him the moment his bare feet tapped on the wooden floorboards as the tell-tale shout of ‘Claws!’ reminded everyone that they were still mad at Caleb for one reason or an other.

There was no hope of reprieve during the day and Caleb remained in his room, watching videos on his phone and whittling away the hours on his computer.

Lars was giving him the silent treatment and he refused to talk to Mary. As tempted as he was to find solace with Jacob, he didn’t want to demand more from his friend given that Legion already was coming over to prepare dinner - something Caleb had completely forgotten to tell anyone and thus had insulted his mother. Even without her telling him what was wrong, he knew she felt insulted; like he was questioning her ability to cook for her family.

“Dammit Mary,” he snarled.

The good thing about his solitary confinement was that he got to practice on his drawing. It left a strange conflict in his mind. As he finished his most recent work and posted it online after working on it for two weeks, he instantly got raving reviews. People were commenting on how well he depicted anatomy, how sexy his art was and more than a few people were sending him private notes, asking if he took commissions. It had been like that since he had first started posting his art online ever since Ashton had pushed him into taking that plunge. Of course there was the occasional fan that would try and get him to draw cocks or sex but he insisted on keeping his work safe-for-work. At least for that moment. He twirled the pencil in his paws, wondering if he should stop over-thinking his status on the internet and venture into the dark, dank depths of not-safe-for-work territory.

He straightened and held out his paws in a stopping motion. “Baby steps, Halestorm. You just had sex with your boyfriend… and a near stranger who was formerly an enemy. Got grounded for it but that’s not the only reason. So baby steps.”

Just imagining how his parents would react to him peddling smut on the internet - and being paid for it - brought up images being called a ‘prostitute’ or even a ‘pimp’ by his family and being disowned. Strangely, being outed as a guy who drew dicks for money while hiding behind an on line persona was far more frightening than being revealed as Weapons Master to his then-anti-Outsider father.

The conflict came from the choices of career. Could he be one of those ‘starving artists’ that got by through drawing for money on line and living at the whims of chance and talent or could he take the path of becoming a professional football player that would likely be forced out of the game by the time he reached fifty and either become a coach or go wherever it is that retired athletes go? Both occupations came with their fair share of hazards. Becoming a professional artist would mean that he would likely suffer injuries to his paws, posture and maybe prostate if he kept getting aroused by what he was drawing. Playing football on a professional level meant that he would smash into guys bigger than him on a daily basis and risk serious brain injury.

“On the one paw, I need my paws to masturbate,” he muttered. “On the other, I need my body to masturbate.”

There was a soft tap on his window and he glanced over in time to see the familiar soup can bounce off his window and disappear into the gap between his house and the Brightwood residence. His mood instantly souring, Caleb rose from his seat and dragged his feet over to the window sill. He gave Mary a glare without lifting the glass for a long moment and she just leaned against her clean, white windowsill, waiting for him. His patience was the first to give in and he lifted the window. When Mary threw the soup can across, he snatched it from the air, still seething from the previous night’s antics.

“Give me one good reason why I should even be talking to you,” he growled.

“Because I’m your conscience and you know just as well as I that if I hadn’t said anything, Jacob would be coming to your house in a couple of hours, fully prepared to cook a meal to the confusion of everyone because you would’ve forgotten to tell anyone he was coming over. You also know I’m right about you not telling Lars about his reassignment come Monday.”

As annoying as she was, Mary was right. He had completely forgotten about his invitation to get Jacob to cook for them. Her accusation of him purposefully avoiding telling Lars of his demotion was also very true, as much as he would’ve liked to deny it. “Fine. But did you have to tell my dad about how I fucked Lars?”

“Yes because, deep down, you know your dad would’ve been fine if it had just been the two of you but the fact that you had Felix there makes things a little worse. Plus, I think your father is a little sexually frustrated given how he hasn’t been allowed to have sex due to his condition and you just had a threesome.”

“I thought you said you’d stop reading people’s minds.”

“I said I’d cut down.”

Caleb rolled his eyes and leaned against the window frame. “Whatever. I suppose there’s no avoiding it. I’m hoping that Jacob could at least take some of the heat off me.” He jerked his chin in her direction, trying not to scowl so much. “Where were you last night? I expected you to be all smug and haughty trying to justify your actions after I was sent into solitary.”

Mary twirled one strand of hair absently. “You’re grounded, Caleb, not confined to your room. And if you must know, Ashton and I got reacquainted.”

He lifted an eyebrow at her. “What? Did you go elephant?” Then he realised what he had asked and lifted his paw. “Actually, never mind! I don’t want to know!”

She giggled, giving him a taunting look. “Fine but I’ll just say that it’s nice to have Ashton use his claws for once. Having protective leathery skin is actually handy when he wants to go ‘hunting’.”

Caleb grimaced and was halfway tempted to toss the soup can away. “Ew. Just… ew… Forget I asked.” He pointed an accusing finger in her direction. “Don’t think I’ve forgiven you for the shit you’ve pulled.”

“I’m your better half, Caleb,” she answered, batting her eyes at him. “Where you are weak, I will push you to become stronger. Just as you’re the muscle to my supple, sensual frame.” To emphasis her point, she ran her hands down her waist.

He rolled his eyes at her. “Right. So I’m your meat shield and you mess with my head. Sounds like a balanced, healthy relationship.”

“You mean like Lars’ overly submissive position in the bedroom compared to his dominant personality outside conflicting with your often indecisiveness in everything but sex which is the only place your newfound assertiveness manifests?”

“Don’t psychoanalyse me,” he snapped. “I’d rather not deal with that right now.”

“Then how about we deal with Hank’s plan for us tomorrow?”

That Caleb could deal with. “You guys ready for it?”

“I suppose as we’ll ever be,” she answered. “It’s a good plan. We need the publicity after what happened with the Gimp. Guinness is really tearing us a new one.”

“I saw.”

GG Guinness had been after Arsenal since their failure to secure and defeat the Gimp. The fact that police officers had to go into the building after the Gimp’s henchmen retreated of their own accord had given him a lot of ammunition. Not to mention the fact that both Shockstorm and Siren had been there and had similarly been subdued. No amount of mystery around Assault could mitigate this damage. The only thing that keeping the light of hope strong was tomorrow’s performance.

“You know, I think your dad is secretly grateful that you’ve got Hank managing your career as a hero,” said Mary. “He was hurt and felt betrayed that you’d do it behind his back but with the werewolf thing and the fact that Hank has some media connections outside of the Elemental Alliance would really be useful to us.”

“I think he’s more pissed that I revealed to him our identities…” Caleb sighed, running a paw down his features. “Wolf Christ… I fucked up, didn’t I?”

“Your heart was in the right place.”

“That’s what you tell people who fucked up.”

Mary suddenly frowned and glanced off to her right, towards the street. Following her gaze, he noticed about three vans, all different colours and seemingly inconspicuous, making their way to the front of the Hale household. “What the…?” she began.

“What is it?” he asked, ears perked.

“It’s… Jacob. What’s he doing here? It’s not even time for lunch…”

Curious and a little cautious, Caleb said, “I’ll be back.” He tossed the soup can back towards Mary, grimacing at his poor aim and mentally noting that if he was ever going to play quarterback again, he would need to work on his throwing arm.

Forgetting for the moment that he was grounded, he scrambled down the stairs, cutting off anyone else from answering the sing-song doorbell. He pulled open the front door, surprise to see Jacob standing there with both arms fully functioning and holding what appeared to be several trays of grooming equipment. Right behind the black-furred wolf were several huge, muscled men, some of them dressed in chef attire while others looking like masseuses.

“Jake? What’s going on? We weren’t expecting you until dinner.”

Reaper beamed at him. “True but I decided that instead of making this a singular meal that I’m sure, as wolves, you and your family would devour faster than I could serve it, it would be better to make this an Expérience Culinaire.”

“Ah what?”

Lance suddenly poked his head out from behind Caleb. For someone as big and muscular as he was, the four-armed wolf was surprisingly stealthy. “Ooh! I’ve heard of those! It’s where they pamper you while you eat!”

Jacob lifted a finger. “Not quite. It comes from the French term Une expérience culinaire, un voyage pour les sens, une odyssée gustative which translates to ‘a culinary experience, a trip for your senses, a gustative Odyssey’. It’s this thing in France where eating foot is less about what it tastes but experiencing the food complete.”

Caleb’s mind began running amok with how one could interpret ‘experiencing’ one’s food. His imagination instantly went into a pit filled with spaghetti and him and his family bathing in the sauce while eating at the same time. He immediately shook his head free of the thought.

“Whatever it was you were imagining, it’s wrong,” Jacob said quickly. His deep, blue eye switched to Lance. “Anywhere we can set up?”

“Yeah!” exclaimed the massive wolf. “We’ve got a huge backyard!”

“Great! Boys, the backyard.”

Before Caleb could protest, Jacob’s miniature army of burly men began charging past him to the backyard, Lance acting as their guide. David emerged from his den, stunned at the procession of testosterone before him.

“What the fuck is going on here!?” demanded the Hale patriarch. His withering stare immediately went to Caleb who could only offer a helpless shrug. Then he caught sight of Jacob. “Reaper! Explain yourself!”

“It’s an Expérience Culinaire,” was Jacob’s simply reply.

A loud squeal immediately erupted from the top of the stairs. Abigail Hale was bounding on one foot, clapping her paws together in excitement. The tall, brunette wolf had been growing out her hair so that it would look stunning for her wedding day. Her bright green eyes were shining in excitement.

“Really!? You’re doing an Expérience Culinaire here!?” She turned, cupping her muzzle in both paws. “Mom! Jake is doing Expérience Culinaire!”

There was a loud bang from the second floor and Lillian Hale came rushing out of the room. She bypassed Abigail and came to a screeching halt just a little past her, seizing the banister railings to keep herself from disappearing further down the hallway. “Seriously!?” came her urgent demand. “How far are you going with it? If you came this early then that means -”

“Yup!” Jacob said, beaming brightly. “It’s lunch and dinner!”

Both female Hales turned to each other, interlocking their paws and jumping up and down in glee, letting out an ear-splitting squeal.

“Can someone please explain to me what Expérience Culinaire is!?” David demanded. “And can someone also please explain why there’s an army of hunky men charging through my living room!?”

“Best if everyone in the family is here so I can explain it once,” said Jacob.

Once the rest of the Hales were gathered, Jacob explained that in France, the revolutionary chef Patience Dubois had come to the conclusion that in this fast-paced modern world, few people had time to actually savour their food. Even in fine-dining restaurants such as hers, people tended to scarf down her meticulously prepared foods and not take the time to appreciate the time and effort that went into preparing the dish. The only people that ever really took the effort to appreciate were critics and even they often came loaded with scathing remarks. So she invented the idea of Une expérience culinaire, un voyage pour les sens, une odyssée gustative. In short, it was culinary journey designed for its diners to slow down, relax and be in the perfect state of mind not only to savour the food given to them but also to help prepare it.

“Wait, we’re cooking?” Leon protested. “I thought you were meant to cook for us?”

“That’s part of the experience, dummy!” Abigail snapped. “Chef Dubois drew upon the old idiom that you tend to really value the food that you prepare yourself.”

“So what’s this about pampering then?” David asked sceptically, his arms folded in the tell-tale sign that he was not budging from his opposition.

Lillian gently rested her paw on his forearm. Like a key to a tightly locked box, David’s arms began to unwind. “Also part of the experience, honey. Chef Dubois saw that we’re all stressed and that translates to how we eat. So a full spa treatment helps slow down her diners and gets them to really relax. The entire experience usually takes an entire afternoon but from what I’ve heard, it’s amazing!”

“It hasn’t really landed her in the US,” Jacob said. “However, I did some research and talked to some people and now we’re bringing the Culinary Experience to you!” He began shooing them with one paw as one of his assistants took the gear from his paws. “Now, all of you. There will be bathrobes ready for you. We’ll start right away.”

David was still clearly dubious. “Couldn’t you have called first or something?” he grumbled. “And do we have to do this in my backyard?”

Raising a paw, Jacob said, “Look, I know tensions are running high right now. Between Abigail’s impending wedding in a couple of months, you and Leon constantly at each other’s throats, Lillian’s mayoral campaign, high school, daily life and other things everyone in this household is pretty high strung. Don’t think of this as me invading your home and taking over. Think of it as a moment where you get to rest, relax and have other people take care of you for six or so hours while eating some of the finest foods on the planet.”

With a growl, David rolled his eyes. “I suppose I could get used to the idea of you being subservient to me.”

He got an exasperated look from that comment. “Yeah, I wouldn’t don’t go that far. I’m not getting paid for this and I’m doing this out of the goodness of my heart and my general concern for this family’s mental health. So kindly shut up, strip down and head over into the back.”

Still grumbling, David turned and headed up the stairs with most of his family, Abby leading the way and taking the steps two at a time. Caleb turned to Jacob, looking confused and a little pleased at the same time.

“You could’ve called and said what you were planning,” he said.

“It didn’t occur to me until last night when Mary told me what she did and how there was probably going to be a lot of animosity towards me the moment I stepped through this door,” Jacob answered, gesturing towards the door frame.

“Thank you!” Caleb exclaimed, glad that someone was agreeing with him on Mary’s meddling. “She really went too far.”

“On some levels, yes. But she was right. You should have told Lars what happened on the field. The sex thing, not so much. You’re a grown wolf now and what happens in the bedroom - or rather on my couch - is between you and your partners. The thing with Hank should have also been disclosed.”

It was only a partial victory but he decided to take it and change the subject. “So what does this thing actually involve?”

“Show me the kitchen?”

Caleb led Jacob towards the kitchen which was usually his mother’s domain but there, a few of the hired chefs were already starting to work on preparing the meals. Jacob headed over to one of the walls that was mostly left empty - a place where they set up their ‘breakfast menu’ which was really just a crude white board with a marker hanging on it and where the trashcans were positioned. Jacob pulled out the golden key hanging from his neck and jammed it into the air like so many other times Caleb had seen him do. There was a wave of glistening golden light and a shimmering, white doorway appeared. With a simple push, a full professional kitchen was revealed with more chefs working away. Now that the portal was open, the chefs in Caleb’s kitchen began moving freely through the two locations.

One strange thing Caleb noted was the presence of AEGIS guards positioned within the room beyond the door.

“Where is this?” he asked, poking his head through the door and sniffing the air. He couldn’t get much beyond the smell of several cooking dishes.

Jacob pulled him aside to let the chefs move to and from without ramming into him. “That’s a few restaurants in the blocks that AEGIS commandeered. We’re utilising it for this exercise.”

“We? As in AEGIS?”

Jacob winced a little. “Not… exactly.”

Alarm bells began ringing in Caleb’s mind. “Wait… are these guys… Are they boneheads!?”

“It’s part of the rehabilitation program.” Jacob pointed at a passing chef. “Manfred over there actually used to be a chef before joining Tibia. Owned his own restaurant and everything. But when the insurance companies dragged their feet in paying to have his place rebuilt after an attack, he realised that he couldn’t live in such a system.” Then he gestured towards another guy through the door who was slicing what looked like a whole flank of a feral cow with ease. “Yuri in there was an butcher but he was convicted of negligence because the warehouse where he worked was used by a gang to store their dead bodies for disposal even though he just worked there and never when the bodies were present.”

Hearing these stories, Caleb came to the bitter realisation that their system of justice was built entirely to benefit those who were rich and established not those every-day men and women who suffered at the hands of those who had the power to do harm. It left a bitter taste in his muzzle and made him wonder how many people’s lives he had inadvertently ruined or at least made that much harder because of his antics as Weapons Master. There were so many victims of the Gene Stealers and so much property damage in the ensuing battles. Where were all those people now? Did he land on their feet? Were they better off now that they were ‘safe’? Or did they turn to the Gene Stealers like these henchmen?

“I guess I feel sorry for them but you’re sure that they won’t try and transform us?”

Jacob grinned brightly. “If they try they’ll have to deal with me! Or worse.”

“What’s worse than you?”

“Telling your sister that she won’t be able to fit in her wedding dress.”

Caleb rolled his eyes and gave Jacob a light smack behind the ears. He was then ushered out by the blonde-haired wolf out into the backyard where the former-boneheads and some AEGIS members were gathered as well, likely to keep an eye on the former. It came as a pleasant surprise that a large tent of sorts had been erected, consuming almost the entirety of the backyard. The white canvas prevented anyone from peeking through the fabric; even shadows and silhouettes were impossible to make out. Within the tent itself were various massage tables and cloth dividers placed between each for a modicum of privacy. The Hales were gathered, dressed down in some white bathrobes. Abby and Lillian had their hairs wrapped up in beehive bath towels. The ‘massage rooms’ lines either side of the tent with three on one side and three on the other. Lounger-like chairs were positioned down the middle where the wolves were seated, drinking what appeared to be cucumber water.

“Go ahead and get ready,” Jacob instructed, pointing at remaining free booth. “There’s a bathrobe there for you to change into. We’ve still got some prep to do before the main event.”

Turning to his friend, Caleb said, “You know you really didn’t have to do this, right?”

“Maybe not but it was also painfully obvious that you wanted me to cause some chaos so that your dad would get off your back.”

The accusation made Caleb’s tail fluff out and he quickly grabbed Jacob’s shoulder and dragged him into the booth. “You knew?” he whispered once they were mostly out of earshot.

“It was really obvious. I asked your dad for his opinion and he told me to not do anything until his say so. But he seems to have forgotten about it and I was out of time.” Jacob poked his head around the corner of the cloth divider, peering at the other members of the family as they leafed through some tablets provided to them. “I could have made up some excuse and based on the bombshell that Mary dropped on you, I thought maybe you might need someone to take the heat for a while. And maybe get your family to relax.”

“It was less of a bombshell and more of a bombing raid,” Caleb grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “And really, this is too much.”

“That’s only because you feel like you need to repay me.” Jacob shooed him over his shoulder. “But I don’t expect anything in return. Just get ready. I promise I won’t peek.”

A light blush touched Caleb’s cheeks as he mentally thought that his best friend was at least entitled to peeking a little. He stripped off his casual clothing, leaving only his underwear, and wrapped the white bathrobe around his shoulders. There were a pair of sandals provided for him which allowed him to tread across the grass without catching any dirt between his toes. When he was ready, Jacob brought him to the remaining chair and let him set down on the luscious cushions. The seat was heated and vibrated gently. Already, David and Leon were melting against the gentle waves emanating from the seats.

Jacob handed him a tablet of his own. “Here’s today’s itinerary. Be sure to fill out the survey so we can match the right masseuse to you.”

The ‘survey’ really only consisted of a few questions. One of them was if he preferred a male or female masseur.

“What’ll happen to the masseur that we don’t pick?” he asked.

“Given that most of our ‘employees’ likely don’t have any job prospects given recent circumstances, this is a bit like… vocational training for them.”

David was rising from his seat again. “Wait, are you telling me that these people aren’t trained!?”

“Sit down, David,” snapped Lillian. “If you read the information pamphlet, you’ll learn that they have been trained. Just… not traditionally.”

A quick scan of the disclaimers revealed that the masseuse were AEGIS agents who had been trained over years in the art of manipulating anatomy. Admittedly, they were trained with the intention of killing with this knowledge but it also applied to the art of massage. Caleb could see how Jacob was thinking in the long-run for AEGIS and its members. Perhaps the agents could become physical therapists if they ever decide to leave the clandestine group or open their own spa. They could even potentially use their knowledge to help anyone injured in the line of duty.

Perhaps AEGIS was open to taking in interns or maybe they would be hiring in a couple of years.

The survey itself asked for his age, any pre-existing injuries and the aforementioned preference of masseuse gender. A glass of cucumber water was provided and he was surprised how it felt so cold despite the tent being quite warm. Even though they were technically outdoors at the tail end of winter, their surroundings were warm, gentle and very pleasant. A distant smell of lavender and lilacs was in the air that helped him get relaxed. Six men emerged from the house a few moments later, each of them introducing themselves to the Hales. Caleb was surprised that Leon of all people had opted for a male masseuse but he decided not to question it. Abby was flustered at the tall, brawny, chocolate-skinned human who took her paw and guided her towards one of the booths, drawing the curtains to give them some degree of privacy.

Caleb gingerly followed the tall lion who led him to his own booth.

“Please remove your robe and lie face down on the bench. I’ll get started as soon as you’re ready.”

“Just so you know,” he began awkwardly, “I’ve never done this sort of thing before.”

“I understand.”

The man was very militaristic, as could be expected from a trained killer from AEGIS. Caleb was starting to see why his dad was a little nervous. Still he trusted Jacob most and decided to lie himself down on the bench. His face and muzzle fit perfectly in the little hole on the headrest. He tried not to think of being trapped in some sort of medieval torture device and tried to relax himself.

Gentle fingers began creeping up his back and he immediately tensed.

“Please relax,” the man advised.

“Uhm… I’ll try…”

After a few gentle rubs, Caleb couldn’t find himself relaxing all that much. The only time he had ever really had anyone touch him like this was when he was play-wrestling with Lars or any of the other guys on the team or when he was being intimate with someone. Since the pressure was very gentle and soothing, his body immediately rejected the idea that he was struggling against the grip of a testosterone-pumped jock and instead interpreted the touch as something more sensual. Caleb’s eyes widened in terror as he felt blood start pumping towards his groin. A new kind of pressure was building as his dick was compressed against the admittedly soft cushioning of the bench. Still, it was building and starting to become uncomfortable. Should he adjust himself? Would that be too obvious? What would AEGIS say if he got aroused while being massaged!?

“You’re still fairly tense,” his masseuse observed. “I’m going to try something. Try not to panic.”

“Panic?” he blurted, starting to rise. “Why would I -”

SNAP!

There was an electric shock that shot through his body starting from the of his spine and sent him crashing back into the bench, fully limp from the neck down.

“What the hell!?” he cried. “What did you do!?”

“Caleb!?” David exclaimed from one of the nearby booths. “Are you alright, son!? What did they… Oooooooh!” His dad’s concern immediately turned into an almost lusty moan. “Right there… Oh fuck…”

“D - D - Dad!?” Caleb stammered.

The curtains of the booth pulled aside and Jacob poked his head in. “Try to relax, Caleb. They’re professionals.”

“Professional assassins!” he shouted back despite being unable to move. “I’m fucking paralysed from the neck…” Suddenly, he felt the masseuse’s warm hands press against his tense back. His deltoids were like hardened ice and those soft palms were the warm rays of a sun, gently melting them and leaving him cool and warm at the same time. “Ooooh… Oh wow… What is that…?”

Jacob fully entered the booth and closed the curtain behind him. He then pressed his paws together as if he were praying. “There’s a Chinese belief around chi energy and how it flows through the body. Modern media has bastardised it and made people think that if you focus your chi enough, you’ll be able to shoot lasers from your palms or something. When you get to the root of it, however, it’s a magical phenomenon where you use your own energies to manipulate the energies of another. AEGIS troops are trained to use this method - among other techniques - to different effects. It can be medicinal, offencive or even defencive as necessary. Ethan, here, has just used some of his chi to block some of the neural pathways leading down from your neck so you can’t move but you can still feel your limbs and you’ll live but you won’t be able to consciously move your body.”

“That’s fucking… aaaaaaaawesome…” Caleb moaned. Ethan’s paws expertly moved further down his body, releasing so much tension that he never knew he had. It was like waves of comfort and warmth were radiating from those paws and activating his spine so that it could emit the same energies.

“I’m glad you think so,” Jacob said with a smile. “Enjoy yourself.”

“I wiiiiiiiill… Oh!” Ethan’s paws rubbed the base of his spine, just above his tail and there was an explosion of pleasure that came from the contact. “Oh! Right there!”

For the next hour, Caleb was effectively putty in the expert lion’s paws. The AEGIS-trained masseuse used scented oils to gently rub into his fur so that he didn’t tug any strands as his paws glided across the prone wolf’s body with ease. When those paws found Caleb’s feet, it was like a volcano of tension erupted, sending tingling sensations running all the way up Caleb’s calves, running up his thighs and shooting through his tail. If he wasn’t paralysed, he would’ve been wagging very hard. Ethan advised him that he carried a lot of tension in his feet, thighs and shoulders - likely as a result of his dual career as an Outsider and in football. When Ethan began gently rubbing the base of his neck, he found his movement returning to the rest of his body. The end was near and he honestly did not want to peel himself off the warm, comforting bench with this lion rubbing him.

Sadly, the end had arrived and Ethan asked him to put on the robe again and meet everyone in the kitchen.

Caleb took his time. It felt like he was floating on clouds and his mind was a little drunk on the waves of relaxation. He was only vaguely aware of his receding boner and was glad Ethan hadn’t called any attention to it. Putting on that robe was the hardest thing he had to do. When he emerged from the booth, he was surprised to find the other booths were already empty. He was the last one. Part of him started to get a little tense again and rushed towards the kitchen.

The Hale family was gathered around the kitchen island, all of them still in their robes, and with Jacob positioned opposite to them near the cooking gear.

“Ah, you’re here,” said the black-furred wolf. “Good. Now we can start.”

“About time,” Leon rumbled. “I’m starving! It’s time for lunch!”

“Yeah!” Lance exclaimed. “Whatcha gonna cook for us, Jake?”

Jacob lifted a finger and wagged it at the two, towering wolves. “I’m not going to cook anything. Like I said, the entire Culinary Experience is built around appreciating your food and part of that is putting the effort into making food. So…” He stepped aside and gestured towards the big giraffe that was wearing the chef’s toque. “… Chef Glandoir is going to help you prepare your own lunch.”

The giraffe nodded to them. “I am Francois Glandoir. Chef on the Cornucopia. I have had the honour of serving some of the finest men and women to protect this world and even some deities. Please…” He gestured towards the door Jacob had summoned. “… Proceed into the starship’s kitchen. We will begin making our meal at once.”

Lillian was the first through the door and since neither she nor Abby had been on the Cornucopia before, they stopped at the door when they pushed it open. They gawked at the massive, industrial kitchen and the various chefs already gathered there. David had to gently push them forward so that they weren’t blocking the path. Glandoir led the Hales to the far corner of the kitchen where there were six seats prepared in front of a large, wooden table filled with various ingredients. Caleb took one of the seats while the rest of the family did the same.

“As a starter, we will be preparing a salmon roe risotto,” Glandoir said.

“Risotto as a starter?” Abby asked, puzzled. “Come on, chef. That’s really heavy! I mean, I know we’re wolves but come on…”

The giraffe waved a knife in her direction. “Ah, but that is exactly why we are preparing something that is traditionally heavy as a starter. Subvert expectations, little girl. Part of being a chef is taking what is common, ordinary and expected and turning it into something else. First, I’ll need a helper… You, big boy with the four arms. Come up here.”

Lance looked like a deer caught in the headlights of a speeding sixteen wheeler and gingerly got to his feet. “Uh… Okay, I guess…” He positioned himself next to Glandoir while the chef handed him a knife and some onions.

“The best way to peel an onion is to first cut off the base and top then make a small incision like this…” He demonstrated the gesture. “And then simply peeling off the skin. See?”

“I knew that…” Lillian muttered softly.

If the chef heard her, he didn’t say anything and went about showing Lance how to chop the onions nice and finely. At the same time, he gave the rest of a Hales a lecture on how to cook and prepare the risotto. Neither Leon nor David were that interested but Caleb found himself fascinated. It occurred to him that this was just another way Jacob was teaching him how to cook. Once again, the Writer of Reality thought on many different levels.

“A good risotto’s rice should be nice and fluffy,” explained the chef. “Almost like biting into a savoury cloud. However, a balanced and well-prepared meal has more than just one texture. That is why we are saving some of these onions and garlic and frying them until brown like this…”

While the chef began preparing the risotto, Lance was in charge of frying the onions and garlic. Being not much better in the kitchen than Caleb, Lance kept asking if what he was preparing was ready yet. Glandoir showed infinite patience and kept lecturing as he watched Lance’s work. He taught them about the intricacies of how to make a good risotto and though it took minutes of stirring and adding water and then repeating the process, the savoury, cheesy smell of the risotto made the Hales salivate in anticipation. Then came the time for plating. Caleb was surprised when Glandoir set down some small, metal rings - no more than an inch in diameter - and then had Lance spoon the fried garlic and onions into them as a base. Once they were done, he placed a layer of risotto in them and finally topped it with some bright orange salmon roe with a few pieces of finely chopped basil. Then he removed the rings.

The result was a small tower that looked like it had come right out of a fine dining menu.

“And all of that comes from just onions, garlic and your normal risotto,” Glandoir said proudly. “You don’t have to use salmon roe either. Even simple pieces of bacon or something else to break the savoury taste of the risotto will do. Even better…” He gestured at the amount of risotto he had left as well as Lance’s pile of fried vegetables. “… this is easy to assemble and can be made en masse.” The giraffe gestured for them to approach. “Come up here and try it. Assemble your own tower as well and have a taste.”

Caleb eagerly approached the table but froze when he noticed that they were lacking any cutlery. “Uh… How do we eat them?”

“With your hands,” Glandoir said with a smile. “Go on, try to pick them up.”

A little wary and fearing he would ‘topple the tower’, Caleb reached for the tiny morsel. He was surprised when the risotto held its shape and with the crispy onions and garlic forming a stable base, he was able to pick it up. “Wow…” he gasped. The he put it into his point, it was less than a mouthful, but the explosion of flavour had him wanting more. The moans from his mom and sister were enough to tell him that they whole heartedly approved.

“I want these at my wedding!” Abby exclaimed.

“Don’t be so hasty, honey,” David rumbled. It almost looked like he didn’t like the mean. “We’ve still go the rest of lunch and dinner to go through. Make your choices once you’ve tasted everything.” Then he began spooning some of the crunch base onto some metal rings on his own plate, spearheading the family’s assault on the make-your-own-meal.

“I can’t have it all?” Abby pleaded.

Caleb beamed and followed the example of his father.

In the same manner, Glandoir instructed them on how to make different dishes, going through a whole six-course meal. Each member of the Hale clan had a chance to play the ‘sous chef’ to Glandoir as they prepared each of the courses. Nothing was that big and the small breaks between cooking actually helped the wolves digest and make room for the next meal. Lance had his turn with the starters so Leon helped with the appetisers which consisted of a refreshing ‘bite salad’ designed to be eaten in a single bite but offer lots of flavour. Despite Leon’s brashness, he prepared the salad just as Glandoir requested to the point where the salad looked like a flower that one could hold in their paws and eat in two or three bites. Abby helped with the soup which was a thick, potato soup that was surprisingly refreshing and incredibly velvety.

Caleb got to help with the fish dish. Having never scaled a fish before, he was at first very nervous. His family shared the same sentiment and took a few steps back. Chef Glandoir had infinite faith in him and taught him the best way to prepare the fish - even teaching him a technique to make sure the fish was cooked evenly. The fish was paired with a fresh vegetable puree - that looked like green cream – which elevated the dish with an element of freshness. The dish was then tied together with a trio of seared scallops.

David - perhaps playing the part of the dad - got to help with the main which was rack of lamb. Caleb had never had lamb before so the succulent meat paired with the mint sauce and root vegetables blew his mind.

“Mom, can we have lamb more often?” he asked.

Lillian only gave him a grunt of agreement as she chowed down on her own meal.

The Hale matriarch helped with the dessert which consisted of moist, orange cakes with a crispy outer coating that gave out a crunch when bitten into and filled with an orange jam that was nice and molten. Biting into it was like cutting into a cloud and the orange jam was like liquefied sunshine flowing down his throat.

By the end of it all, the Hales were sated but surprisingly not bloated like they would normally be during a meal.

“That was fantastic!” Abby exclaimed. “I want those cakes in my wedding!”

“You’ve said that about everything Chef Glandoir has prepared,” Leon growled.

The Chef bowed towards them in thanks. “I thank you for your compliments. I believe it is time for the next part of your experience. Please, leave through the door and head back into your backyard.”

Caleb couldn’t believe that there was still more to come and he eagerly followed the rest of his family back into the big white tent. The booths were still present but gone were the massage tables. Instead of the lounge chairs, there were manicure stations positioned down the centre of the tent while pedicure and grooming stations had been placed in the booths. Multiple men and women in white were positioned there, preparing the chemicals and equipment to treat the wolves.

“Wait… You’re going to groom us?” he asked.

Jacob, who was leaning against a nearby pole, nodded. “Of course. It’s a full treatment, after all. Is that a problem?”

“No… Just… I guess it’s a little weird?”

“Please. In the span of five issues, you’ve never once been shown having a haircut nor have we answered the question of how you wolves go about treating your coats. It’s about time we remedied that. Take a seat.”

Ignoring Jacob’s nonsense, he placed himself in one of the manicure chairs but sat down with his paws firmly folded on his lap. He watched the others take up position as well, with Abby right beside him. It came as a surprise when Gwen entered the tent and began barking off orders for the others. Jacob was then free to turn and return to the house, likely to prepare the rest of the evening while Gwen oversaw the events here. His manicurist asked him to lift up his paws and he gingerly raised his claws, worried that she might make some snide comment on how long or filthy they were. She made no comment on that, thankfully.

Then Abby sighed.

“What’s wrong, sis?” he asked. “I thought you’d enjoy this.”

“I do,” Abby replied mournfully. “But when you think about it, this is probably the most pampered I’ll ever be. I don’t think we’ll ever be able to afford this kind of treatment before my wedding.” She shot him a foul look. “And don’t even think about asking Jacob to arrange this sort of thing again. I’d rather start my new married life without debt, thank you.”

“After how much you’re planning to spend for your wedding, I really don’t think that’s possible.”

Abby scowled at him and turned to his manicurist. “Would you kick him please.”

SMACK!

Caleb flinched as pain rocketed up his shin. “I suppose I deserve that.” He glanced at her while his claws were being filed. “I don’t suppose there’s any chance of you reeling back your budget, is there?”

She rolled her eyes at him. “A girl only has one wedding. It’s got to be special.” Her features twisted into one of sorrow again. “But you can’t make it special without money.”

Even though she didn’t say it, it was painfully clear why they didn’t have enough money to pool into her wedding. Apart from their mother’s mayoral campaign, David was dipping into their savings to keep Arsenal afloat. Now that they were hiring Hank as well, there were some fees to be added there. Lance was still technically in college as well and there were all the expenses Caleb accrued.

“I just wish there was something we could do to make your wedding really special, Abby.” He gave her the same foul look she had given him. “And don’t even think about saying that just having friends and family there is important. I know how much you want your wedding to Arthur to be special.”

His sister gave him an appreciative smile. “Thanks, Caleb. Maybe I should just delay the wedding until we’re more financially stable…”

Gwen approached her and gave her a gentle bop on the head with the tablet she was holding. “That has got to be the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Hey!” Abby protested weakly.

“People generally only have one life and few people are lucky enough to find the one person they love,” the No One said. “To put your happiness on hold for something as materialistic as love is just absurd.”

“You’ve clearly never had to deal with debt before,” Abby grumbled.

“You’d be surprised.” Gwen lifted one eyebrow. “How about you have the wedding at my place?”

All the Hales gave the No One an incredulous look.

“At your house?” Abby asked warily. “No offense, but I’m not so poor that I’d have my wedding in someone’s backyard.”

Her face still and unreadable. “My ‘backyard’, happens to be my own dimension that’s called ‘Eden’. Used to be called ‘Lost’ but I got outvoted. It consists of ever-rolling misty planes, towering mirrors and golden towers while romantic, distant mountains reach into an ever-blue sky. Most people consider it the closest approximation to ‘Heaven’ amongst the No Ones. I could even officiate for you.”

Caleb’s mind exploded with excitement. To have Abby’s wedding in a No One’s home world and to be married by the Liaison of Life was… well… it wouldn’t just be special. It would be unique!

“You would do that for us?” he asked.

“On the condition that only those truly close to you are in attendance,” Gwen said, lifting a finger. “I’ll get a say in the guest list.”

Abby puffed out her cheeks a little. “I’m guessing it’s only really people who know about our family’s secret that’ll get to come along. But will this marriage even hold up in court or in this world? As much being joined in holy matrimony by a god is spectacular, I don’t know if it’ll work when we’re filing our taxes.”

Gwen closed her eyes and seized the back of Abby’s head, holding it firmly and making the young, female wolf whimper in surprise. “There’s no such thing as ‘gods’. Just mortals. Remember that. And I’m offering this as an alternative to the ‘perfect’ wedding you want, clearly cannot afford and are too proud to ask Jacob to offer his resources. Though I suppose you’ve bitched enough about your lack of funds to your friends that it would be suspicious of you got the ‘princess-level’ wedding you’ve dreamed of.” She released Abby’s head. “Still have your budget wedding to appease the rule of law. But you will already have had the dreamland wedding you would’ve wanted with the people who truly matter. Cut away the burden of bragging to your friends, maintaining a degree of social status with your distant relatives and avoid the inevitable question of grandkids. Just have a nice, intimate ceremony where those whom you truly care about can witness your union with your chosen partner.”

At the mention of ‘grandkids’ Abby made a startled face. Never once had she mentioned having children. Marriage, yes, but children was the farthest away from her mind. Given their financial struggles, Caleb assumed that bringing a child into this world would be an even greater strain on her. Since both Abby and Arthur were still in law school, their internships did not pay that well. From what he remembered, Arthur had some very strong connections in the world of lawyers and could easily get a job but Abby - being a feminist - didn’t want to be stuck at home babysitting; she wanted to get a job and earn a living wage. Having kids so soon would rip away that aspiration.

“You’ve convinced me,” Abby said. “When can we have the ceremony?”

“Don’t be so hasty,” Gwen warned. “We’ll need to review the guest list and make sure the greatest number of people we can trust can attend. Then we’ll schedule a date and time.”

“Can we do it within the month?”

Caleb jerked back in surprise and his manicurist immediately pulled the nail file away before any damage was done. “A month!? Abby, are you nuts!?” His cry caught the attention of the other Hales, especially Lillian, who was right next to her daughter.

Abby gave him a fierce, determined look. “Look, Caleb, I don’t know when the last time you or anyone else will be in the same place let alone safe and sane enough to attend my wedding. Just a week ago, you were off in Africa fighting a huge elephant! A few weeks before that, you were brainwashed into fighting your own team and Leon had been turned into a horse! I don’t know what’ll happen in the next thirty days.” She pursed her lips and turned away, focusing on her nails. “I want my family to be there; all those people I care about. I don’t want to get married if you or anyone else fighting for us is off bashing a Gene Stealer’s head in, struggling against their own body or worse.”

She turned towards the rest of the family. “I want a promise from all of you. On the day of my wedding, there won’t be any drama. That means…” Her eyes fell upon David and Leon. “… you two aren’t going to be at each other’s throats.” Next was Lillian. “Mom, put aside your mayoral campaign for one day.” Then she turned towards Lance. “No texting your boyfriend.” Lastly was Caleb. “And please, Caleb, I know you can’t control the bad guys but please try and keep that shit away from the wedding.”

Just like this one moment of respite in the storm of the world, Caleb knew that the family needed a break every now and then. The world could wait one day for the heroes to just take the day off.

Lifting his paw, he said, “I promise, Abby.”

Leon grumbled and rolled his eyes. “I suppose I could stop hating Dad for one day.”

The rest of the family made the same promise and Abby let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you.” Then she whirled around to Gwen. “What are we going to do for the reception? Do you think we can go to Jacob’s world?”

Gwen shrugged. “If you like infinite white and nothingness. R3’s world is called ‘Naught’ for a reason.”

And just like that, Abby had perked up and was chatting to Gwen about wedding plans. Their manicure session ended and they were taken to their booths where they sat in big, comfortable chairs with their feet up. Their manicurists - also their pedicurists - went to work. Only his sister’s voice was heard through the cloth walls as she continued to discuss plans with L4 the Liaison of Life. Occasionally, Lillian would chime in with an idea and then it would be a three-way conversation. It seemed that anything was possible within Gwen’s home world of Lost and Abby was already conjuring up ideas of having the wedding within a castle and having glowing, white doves erupt from the parapets while bells rang out to the tune of the wedding march. In many ways, Abby would get the dream wedding she always wanted.

Even if it was a month away.

Caleb briefly wondered if Abby would be opposed to him and Lars fucking at the reception. There were so many cliches about the best man having sex after the wedding that it would almost be an insult not to partake. Then again, he had to wonder if Gwen would take offence to the act while in her world. Having the Liaison of Life bearing down upon him with fire and fury curbed his libido especially after that beating she had given Madman.

His pedicurists finished and gently caused the reclining chair to sit back up. She took out a pair of scissors and a hair trimmer and then went to work on Caleb’s admittedly, messy brown hair. He couldn’t remember when was the last time he had actually had a haircut. Only this was more than just a haircut. His stylist began brushing his fur, trimming it down and making sure that everything was sleek and shiny. A faint blush touched his cheeks when he saw just how much of his grey and white fur was being tossed to the ground. Though he bathed regularly, he never really went so far as to give himself a good brush. Admittedly, after a few minutes of the tender treatment, he felt so much lighter. His body was already preparing for spring and that could be seen by just how much fur came off. His stylist was very thorough as well even going so far as to trim the fur on his tail, legs, chest and even around his rear - even as he protested.

A good hour and a half since the private session began, he felt like a new wolf. Tail wagging, he followed everyone back into the house, bathrobe around his shoulders, where Jacob met at the kitchen.

“Time for your baths,” said the black-furred wolf. “Just to get any excess fur out, of course. Please follow me.”

Jacob led them through his magical door back onto the Cornucopia. This time, the door led them - not into the kitchen - but into what appeared to be a large set of private baths. Again, AEGIS and former henchmen were waiting for them in six private booths. It was a little awkward stripping off in front of strangers but he was beyond caring as he was guided into one of the enormous tubs in his own private room. There, the three men began working by lathering shampoo into his fur and working their hands along his muscles to lather the soap into every strand so that it soaked into his skin. One rubbed a different kind of shampoo into his hair while two worked on his arms. The mint-scented waters was just the perfect temperature and its scent lulled him into the brink of slumber. Even when his attendants moved from his arms towards his shoulders and along his chest, he didn’t mind. There was a little bit of awkwardness when he was asked to stand and the men began rubbing his chest and rump but the constant barrage of activities designed to relax him had taken its toll and he was no longer worried. They worked his legs and feet last before moving again towards his upper body to apply a conditioner. The second wave almost made him fall asleep and he was fairly sure he had dropped off for a few minutes because the next thing he knew, the treatment was over and he was asked to stand again while they used hand-held blow driers and towels.

After he was tried, they gently brushed his fur back into position.

He was surprised when he noticed that the clock read that it was seven in the evening. Almost eight hours had passed since the treatment began.

Time certainly flew by.

Dressed once more in a bathrobe and his underwear, Caleb was led back through the Cornucopia and into his household kitchen.

Jacob was there to meet them.

“I know you’re all pretty hungry by now,” said Reaper.

“What’re we cooking this time?” Lance asked excitedly.

“Nothing,” answered the wolf simply. “If the first part of the Expérience Culinaire consists of a lesson, the last part is all about the reward. So if you will please follow me…”

They were led back to their backyard. Caleb’s jaw dropped open. The booths, stations and grooming tools were all gone. Now, there was a long six-person table placed at the very centre populated by fine cutlery and brilliant floral decorations that was reminiscent of spring. Laurels hung along the walls of the ten, adding a vibrant green to the otherwise drab white. Silvery plates were positioned beside crystal glasses and a large feral wolf ice sculpture positioned in a howling position was displayed at the very centre of the extravagant table.

“Please enjoy the final part of our experience,” Jacob said with a bow. “A six-course meal presented by our very own chefs.”

Abby and Lillian squealed in delight and immediately took their seats. Caleb’s own tail was wagging excitedly as he parked himself to the left of his father with Lance right beside him. The meals came out a moment later, carried by waiters and waitresses on silver plates. The entire procession reminded him a lot about Ben’s Christmas even but there was no fear of being werewolf prey here. When the cloches were revealed, the food before them was absolutely spectacular. Each of them had their own servings but they were wolf-sized servings - so at least eight times bigger than the normal person would have for that particular meal. After everything that they had been through, though, Caleb devoured the meal before him slowly; savouring the taste and riding the waves of flavour. The rest of his family did exactly the same.

Between bites, conversation struck up. Leon was grilled on his training to become a police officer and a detective with no hostilities from David. Lance was asked about how he was doing between the college courses and his training at the Elemental Tower. Naturally, Caleb was questioned on his courses and offered some advice on perhaps taking more challenging courses even if he was offered that scholarship at WCIU. Abby spoke about her aspirations to be a lawyer while Lillian was warming over to the idea of having Hank help her with the campaign.

Then it came to David.

He cleared his throat just about the third course - beautiful pea and crab bisque served with some seasoned bread and sauteed mushrooms on the side - and rose from his seat. “Excuse me,” he said, flagging down a waiter. “Could you grab Jake, please?”

The waiter nodded and ran into the house. In the meantime, David poured himself a glass of red wine. Jacob emerged a moment later, one blonde eyebrow raised.

“Something the matter?” asked the Writer of Reality.

“Yeah,” David said. “Throughout all of this, I haven’t gotten a chance to thank you.” He swallowed - either out of reflex or by literally swallowing his pride. “I don’t know if you knew this but I my family really needed this. We’ve all been dealing with a lot of… difficulties of late. Even then, it has been a very long time since we’ve actually sat down, had dinner and talked to one another without scarfing down food and running off to our own individual rooms.” He lifted his glass towards Jacob. “So… Thank you, Reaper.”

Jacob smiled, folding his paws behind his back. “Well, I’ll be honest and say that I didn’t do it voluntarily.”

Caleb flinched and so did everyone else. Over eight hours of effort was spent on the Hales to give them this magnificent afternoon. What could the Writer of Reality possibly want in return?

“Why did you do it then?” Leon asked, his paws clutching his silverware tightly.

“Because I was asked.”

That answer… stunned everyone.

“Come again?”

Jacob shrugged. “You’d be surprised how many people in the expanse of all existence don’t know the power of simply asking for help. They think that just because they perceive someone to be more powerful than them, more capable or busier, that asking for help from someone so important would be humiliating or would mean instant rejection.” He shook his head, an amused smile on his muzzle. “Yet when it comes down to it, if those people are worth their salt, they will go out of their way to help those in need. The only thing is that they’re often paralysed by fear of overstepping their boundaries. The last thing you want to do is to make someone feel incompetent because you lend a hand when they never asked for it. Worse is if they become dependent on you.”

He began to turn around, a smile on his face. “So just remember that, Hales. Don’t forget to ask for help when you need it. More often than not, there is someone out there willing to lend a hand.”

Caleb watched his friend go.

But he couldn’t just let him go like that.

He was the one that asked Jacob to help. He had to be the one to thank him.

“Excuse me for a sec,” he said, bolting out of his chair. “Jake! Wait up!”

Jacob was back in the kitchen by the time he caught up with him.

“Before you say anything,” said Reaper, holding up a paw, “I know I didn’t have to go to this much effort to fulfil your request but I thought I could kill two birds with one stone.” He gestured to his left. “Help the former-henchmen adjust back to normal society with a bit of controlled training…” Then he gestured to the right. “… and give you guys a nice, relaxing experience to ease your minds. That and screw you over for thinking that I’d cause chaos and havoc in your family so your dad would keep off your back.” He winked at Caleb. “Seriously dude, just ask your dad to lay off. No need to resort to subterfuge and sabotage.”

Caleb grinned sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head. “Y - Yeah. I got that. But that’s not why I wanted to talk.”

“Oh? Why then?”

“I know Dad made that speech to thank you but… I was the one that asked you to do this. I felt that I should thank you too.”

Jacob smiled brightly. “Aw, no need. I did kind of undermine your original plan so let’s just call it even.”

He shook his head. “No. I was wrong to try and use you. I was selfish and honestly a little bit of a jackass. Let me thank you properly.”

With a smile, Reaper rolled his eyes. “Alright. Let’s get on with it then. I’ve still got to organise the clean-up effort once you’ve all eaten and -”

Caleb suddenly seized the sides of Jacob’s cheeks and pulled the black wolf towards him. Their lips collided and there was just the faintest push of his tongue against Reaper’s lips. No simple ‘thank you’ would be enough. Not after all that Jacob had done for him; not after Jacob calmed his entire family down and even got Abby a wedding in a No One’s realm. This needed something a little more… intimate.

He pulled away and gave Jacob a sheepish smile. Reaper was staring at him in shock.

“Thank you,” he muttered.

“Uhm…” Jacob began. “You’re… welcome?” Reaper shook his head and hiked a thumb over his shoulder at the door. “I’ve still got some stuff to do. That was nice. Don’t get me wrong. But I’ve got -”

“I know, I know,” Caleb said, rolling his eyes. “A husband that demands pictures if you ever get intimate. Go on. I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

“Right,” answered Reaper with a relieved smile on his muzzle. “Until tomorrow.”

******

On the outskirts of what he considered AEGIS Central, Caleb waited patiently in the very same coffee shop where he had first met Jacob before they went out to fight Tibia for the first time. With a hot chocolate in his paws, he scrolled through the news on his phone, trying hard not to reply to the inflammatory comments made by bigmouths like GG Guinness. The news cycle was still rife with Arsenal’s ‘failure’ against the Gimp. No official statement had been made from the team and that only allowed the wound to their ego to fester and the vultures to gather. At the very least, the Elemental Alliance didn’t make any comment either despite the fact that two elite members of their own cabal had also ‘failed’. Whoever was running the Alliance these days was just as happy to let Arsenal bear the brunt of the criticism while they quietly remained on the corner, licking their own wounds in silence.

But that would change today.

A message popped up on his phone.

It was from Felix.

“We’re ready and primed to go. Everyone in position?”

Mary was the first to reply. “Good to go.”

Then Ben. “Howling and horny!”

Caleb rolled his eyes at the comment as Lars replied with as simple “…”, which was enough to indicate that he was ready as well.

Bren and Madman indicated they were in position and Caleb followed suit. Rhiannon was the last.

Which only left Jacob.

Caleb glanced over his shoulder. He had agreed to meet with Reaper at the coffee shop before the main event. But now it was time for the show and his friend was still missing. Did that kiss the previous night make things awkward between them? Was Jacob purposefully avoiding him because he had the beginnings of a love-triangle between himself, Lars and an interdimensional entity of immense power? How did one even go about that kind of conversation with a No One?

He ran a paw down his face and though he was loathed to ask her for advice given what she did the other day, he needed to vent.

“Hey Mary,” he began in a private chat. “I kind of did something really weird.”

Her reply was instantaneous. “You kissed Jacob.”

“Stop reading my mind!”

“I didn’t. Did you really think that a massive tent going up in the middle of your backyard wouldn’t go unnoticed? I was there when Jacob and AEGIS came rolling in remember? When I didn’t hear from you after an hour, we decided to do a bit of spying.”

His newly trimmed fur fluffed out. “We?”

“Ashton and I. He came over to fuck but then I told him about what was happening and we both decided to try and see what was happening. We saw you kiss Jacob.”

Just what he needed. Meddling Mary was probably going to tell Lars, adding to the strain in their relationship all the more. “Did you already tell Lars? Is that why he only replied with three dots?”

“No. I haven’t. The last thing I want is to get between you, Lars and Jacob. I’m going to say that you need to talk to Lars about it. But I’ve got an obligation as your best female friend to ask, did it mean anything?”

“Of course not!” he answered far too quickly. But the moment he hit ‘send’, he felt a well in his stomach do back flips. “Well… Okay. So Jake is really nice to me and he’s been really supportive. I can’t deny he’s sexy but I don’t see him that way. I feel like if he were to leave all of the sudden, there’d be a hole in my life that Lars wouldn’t be able to fill.” He hit ‘send’ and then quickly tried to explain himself. “Not because Lars isn’t part of my life or any less important but… he’s just part of my life now.”

Mary was noncommittal for a moment and he prayed it was only because she was thinking. Then the little notification appeared that indicated that she was typing. “I understand. I don’t think we could really miss him anymore. But something just occurred to me.”

He waited for her to clarify.

“Jacob has gone on and on about his ‘husband’ but never once has he mentioned him by name. In fact, when grilled about it, Jake is mostly evasive and goes on some anecdote that makes us feel like we know his husband all the more but doesn’t actually answer the question.”

“So?”

“Caleb… what if you’re Jacob’s husband?”

Caleb nearly choked on his drink. “WHAT!?”

“Think about it. Jacob is an interdimensional-travelling entity. Is it really out of the realms of possibility that you might be his one-and-only? Let’s also not forget that he stands outside of time and space so it might be that for whatever reason, his husband wanted to reincarnate as a wolf pup with unknowable powers. Live his own life for a second. I mean, it sort of fits, doesn’t it? You have no idea who your parents were, you have these ‘divine’ looking powers and when you kissed Jacob, he was shocked but he didn’t look like he was opposed to it.”

Eyes wide like saucers, he began compiling the evidence in his mind. His relationship with Jacob had been very friendly even when he had first been jealous of the super. The Writer of Reality did mention that he and his husband liked to incarnate into realities every now and then to experience lives within those dimensions. Most people would’ve run away when kissed by a guy in a committed relationship but not Jacob. Sure, he was missing today but -

The door to the coffee shot sprang open with a soft ringing and Jacob came rushing in. He spotted Caleb and beamed, bounding over. The black wolf was covered in sweat despite the chill air.

“Sorry I’m late,” panted the No One. “The spirit within Sturmspalter wasn’t too pleased that I was shelving him for the moment. Tried to tell him that what was coming up needed more precision as opposed to the showy, destructive powers he was but he wouldn’t have it. By the time I managed to talk him down, I was already late.” He sighed and leaned against the chair. “I really need to get a car.” Then he pointed at Caleb’s drink. “Is that hot chocolate? Mind if I have a sip? I’m exhausted.”

Caleb just pushed the mug towards his friend - future husband? - and nodded

Mary replied with, “Jacob and Caleb… Your names even sort of rhyme. If you were to make a cutesy couple’s name there wouldn’t be much of a change. Maybe ‘Calob’ and ‘Jaleb’.”

“Is that the others?” asked the black wolf, peering over. “Are they in position?”

Caleb instinctively peeled his phone away, clutching the screen towards his chest. That was a bad move. Now Jacob knew something was wrong.

“Caleb? What’s the matter?”

There was no hiding it anymore so he set down his phone on the table and sighed. “Jake… Am… Am I your husband?”

Jacob’s features fell like he had just been hit in the gut. That was all the answer he needed. He was Jacob Reaper otherwise known as the Writer of Reality’s future husband. Or was he a past husband? Present? He couldn’t wrap his mind around this bizarre continuity. He slammed his forehead into the table, hoping that by having physical contact with something, his spinning mind would find some solid foundation on which to stand. It was no use, though. He was still in the eye of a roiling storm. How would he tell Lars that their relationship was doomed to fail? What would he tell his parents? At the very least, he felt some comfort over the fact that when his natural life on this world was over, he’d be in Jake’s arms again. What made him feel horrible was that there was some part of him actually excited to see other worlds with the No One.

“Seriously? Jaleb? Calob? That’s the best Mary can come up with?”

He lifted his gaze, surprised as Jacob was leafing through the messages on his phone. “You’re taking this really well…” Jacob was taking this really well… which meant he was right! “Oh fuck me… I really am your husband, aren’t I?”

Jacob gave him a deadpan stare with eyes half-closed. “No. You’re not.”

And with that, his world came crashing around him. This epic foundation of conspiracy theories and interdimensional carnal relationships all crumbled into dust. “I’m… not?”

“No,” Jacob sighed, pushing his phone back towards him. “My husband, EX the Existent, is not you. The reason I avoid mentioning his name is because our readers don’t know who he is yet and the author is a jackass. And for the record, the reason I was quite nonchalant with our kiss is because I knew if I reacted negatively, you’d get all neurotic and start thinking that you weren’t good enough or something along those lines.” Jacob glanced out the window with a sigh. “Should’ve known that no matter what I did, your teenage mind would blow it out of proportion.” Then he gave Caleb an encouraging smile. “Look, Caleb, I like you as a friend and I will admit there’s some part of me that wants to get you in bed and maybe even a little to feel you change into a horse, bull or hyena while inside me while we role play but I am a professional. I’m not going to let my hormones get the better of me.” He let out a short laugh and once again glanced out the window. “I remember that was actually a big problem when I was still ‘normal’. Always on the job and never taking some time for myself. My brother, Rex, would always try to get me to enjoy the finer things in life.”

“So… I’m not your beau?” Caleb asked, a bit of disappointment in his voice.

Jacob’s eyes switched to him even if his muzzle was still pointed out the window. “I can already tell that there was some part of you that actually hoped that wasn’t the case. Why, Caleb? Why does being my husband sound so appealing?”

Shuffling in his seat, he said, “Well… You’re really nice, smart and -”

“You’re just listing off traits you’d get from a dating profile,” Jacob interrupted. “Think about what I could offer you that someone else can’t. Make your decision not because of my personality but because of the one thing that’s unique that I can offer you.”

“I guess…” Caleb began fidgeting. “The endless adventure. I mean, you’re always going to different places, different world, experiencing new things. I don’t know if you knew this but when we went to Madagascar, that was the first time I had even been out of this country. New Year’s when I we went to New York was the first time I had ever been off the Island. After everything I’ve seen, I want to see more.”

“If that’s how you truly feel…” Jacob said grimly. “… you know that your soul belongs to me when you die. I’d be more than happy to take you on around until you’re ready to truly settle down. Lars is pretty much in the same boat. Having you two by my side would be pretty fun. I haven’t done EX3 in a while…”

He cocked his head to the side. “What’s that?”

Jacob grinned brightly. “Oh, its this bit me and EX do where each of us wields a matching weapon or at least complimenting weapons. We go around either as mercenaries, travelling heroes, sometimes villains and do whatever it is that we need to do in that world. We go around shouting long lists of complimentary titles. Like…” He lowered his voice purposefully and puffed out his chest. “I am Reocon, Wind of the North, Bringer of Winter and Blade of Death. Then he’d say something like. “I am Narxes, Flame of the South, Herald of Summer and Sword of Life. Then we’d dance around each other, swinging our weapons in a coordinated manner before finally doing a pose that’s perfectly symmetrical. Think Power Rangers but even cheesier. We generally do that when we have one or more Advocates that want to tag along with one another.”

“Really?” Caleb laughed. “That sounds so corny.”

“Trust me, it is. But it opens up character progression when we eventually stop and acts a sort of metaphor for the people we’re trying to help to emphasise how, sooner or later, we have to get rid of all the pomp and posture to get something done.” Jacob shrugged. “Of course we’ve got a whole list of plays we could do. I think you’ll enjoy them in the end.” He raised a paw. “But don’t go planning for the afterlife yet, okay? Right now, focus on what is on the now, your life here. You’ll only get one shot at that and trust me, I hate rewrites.”

Those words eased his roiling stomach and he let out a soft, contented sigh. The moment of reflection was interrupted, however, when a loud explosion rocked the cafe a short distance away.

“Oh shit!” he exclaimed, checking his phone. The rest of the team were already messaging that it was time to move. “Fuck! We’re late!”

“Damnit!” Jacob cursed, leaping to his feet. “Okay, I’ll get into position. See you out there!”

Both wolves rushed out of the cafe and went their separate ways; Jacob towards the sounds of the fight while Caleb in the opposite direction. It didn’t take long for news outlets to start sending in people to cover the explosion. Several electronics stores with their screens on display were already playing coverage of the scene on the emergency broadcast system. Headlines ranged from ‘Elephants on a Rampage’ to ‘Tibia Strikes Again’. Large pachyderms wearing militaristic uniforms - customised to appear as far away from the AEGIS design as possible - were charging down the street, taking people hostage and wielding bone-themed weapons that they generated from their bodies.

Caleb grinned. All was going according to Hank’s plan.

A short distance away, in a big, black van, the media-savvy vulpine was staying and he quickly pulled the side door open and hopped inside.

“How’re we looking?” he asked.

“A little behind schedule,” answered Hank, a laptop in his paws while screens and other monitoring equipment were mounted on the walls around them - courtesy of AEGIS. “But it’s looking good. You guys picked a nice place. Just on the outskirts of AEGIS Central so no people will get hurt but close enough to the rest of the city that the media will find it easily enough.”

Caleb beamed and gave his friend a thumbs up. Looking towards the front of the van, he said, “You ready, mom?”

Lillian Hale, dressed in a pressed and clean blue suit, nodded shakily. Even after raising four kids - and arguably one husband - she was nervous to have her first ever public appearance. Her AEGIS driver and designated bodyguard drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, adding to the tension.

“And cue Arsenal,” Hank announced.

On the screens, Lars and the others came rushing in from different directions. It was something Hank had noted about their entrances - they usually approached the enemy as if they had come from scattered locations. If they had started approaching as one, it would seem inauthentic and that was what they were going for - authenticity. Even though this was a very extravagant publicity stunt. Leon worked with the police force and within minutes, they were cordoning off the area where the fight was taking place. Naturally, this attracted a crowd despite the immediate ‘danger’.

Hank shut his laptop. “Alright, we’re good to go!”

The driver nodded and peeled away from the curb, making their way towards the commotion. All the while, Caleb watched with barely contained glee as Lars and Felix went about their practised display of powers, both of them made sure that they didn’t inflict any lasting collateral damage or hurt anyone. Just bones and flames flying around everywhere. The same went for the rest of the fight. Even when Jacob showed up, he didn’t reveal his Advocate weapon and was just dancing around the elephants, throwing a few scattered punches and kicks to make it seem like a real fight without actually inflicting damage.

“We’re about two minutes out,” Hank advised. “Keep it up, guys!”

“Can you hurry it up?” Ben demanded. “I’m getting bored here!”

“If we were allowed to go all out, you wouldn’t be bored, pup!” Felix growled.

Lillian let out a soft whimper. “I really don’t know about this. I mean, this is really overdoing it…”

“We need to be overdo it a little,” Hank explained. “The race for mayor is already in full swing and the only person running apart from you is General Washington. All the poles flag him as winning by a landslide. He’s so confident with his victory that he isn’t even actively campaigning anymore even though the vote is months away. You need to make a splash. Tell everyone that you’re still in the running.”

And what better way to attract the attention of the entire city than a Gene Stealer attack? Even Washington, who touted security and safety as his platform, couldn’t shake the ever-looming threat of the Gene Stealers.

“Just stick to the script,” Hank insisted. “Everything will be fine. Remember, this is just the first of many steps.”

“Right…” Lillian breathe. “Of course.”

The van came to a halt on the outer edges of the gathered crowd. Hank and Caleb - dressed in his Weapons Master costume - stepped out. The moment the police force and crowd saw them, they immediately parted to let them past. Then Lillian stepped out alongside her bodyguard - a lithe Labrador also dressed in a suit and almost looked like a direct opposite of Bren. Few of the citizens recognised Lillian as a mayoral candidate but if they had any doubts of her importance, it was dispelled the moment they saw Weapons Master escorting her past the barricade and into the battlefield.

Caleb put two fingers in his lips and let out a shrill whistle.

The fighting immediately stopped, much to the surprise of everyone.

Some of the elephants rushed into nearby buildings before returning with speakers, microphones and lights. The others used their powers to summon bones from the ground, crafting them into a stage and stairs. Arsenal positioned themselves in front of the makeshift stage while Lillian stepped up into the light. Flags and banners saying ‘Vote of Lillian Hale’ unfurled around her, dropping down from rooftops and sidewalks.

She cleared her throat as Caleb took up position right next to Lars and Mary.

“My name is Lillian Hale,” his mother began. “And I want to be your mayor.”

So far so good. The looks of surprise and confusion on the crowd were understandable and there was a stunned silence even from the hovering media copters and drones.

“What you saw today was a display of the kind of reaction that my opponent, Vernon Washington, wants to foster. The moment an elephant with bone-related powers sprung up on the news, it was ‘Elephants on a rampage’ or ‘Tibia strikes again’. Immediately, mainstream media sprung up on the opportunity to drum up panic over a Gene Stealer attack without a care for the identities of the poor victims that fell into their nefarious trap or consideration for the reasons why they chose to become a Gene Stealer in the first place if they were given a choice at all.”

The crowd’s confusion was fading. Now it was all curiosity as it dawned on them that this was not some attack but a publicity stunt.

“My predecessor… The former mayor, he chose to become a Gene Stealer. Have you ever wondered why?” The answer had been plastered all over the news upon the capture of Francis Dalton. “He was disenchanted by the current system. We experience an attack from a super or villain at least once every week and there is nothing we can do about it apart from sit there and hope our insurance will cover the costs. Hope is well and good and hope, especially in the men and women who voluntarily put their lives one the line to protect us, is what keeps us going as a society. But we need to evolve that hope just as our enemies are evolving with us.”

Caleb nodded quietly to himself. His mother was following the script perfectly and he could see the worry on the faces of the crowd. ‘Evolve’ was a term that the Gene Stealers tried using before and now they were starting to worry that Lillian may be corrupted. Exactly how Hank wanted them to think.

“Vernon Washington wants to force a mandatory tracking and registration for every super or Outsider out there,” Lillian continued. “But will that solve the issue? Will that stop villains from popping up? No! All that will do is treat everyone who is unique as a criminal from the moment their power manifests. I do not want that for our kids!”

Children. Just a mere mention of the next generation was enough to stir at least some of the parents out there. Once again, exactly according to Hank’s plan.

“I am a mother myself. My son, Caleb, was the victim of the Gene Stealers.”

That was not according to the script.

Trying not to look panicked, Caleb fought the urge to turn around and give his mother an incredulous look.

“He was turned when the Gene Stealers attacked his high school. I am lucky to have had Arsenal and the Elemental Alliance there to help bring him back but you have to wonder about the people who were not so fortunate. Our heroes can’t be there for everyone. Especially when we aren’t there for them. Every day I ask myself what would have happened to my poor boy if the heroes that make this Island safe weren’t there to bring him back into my arms. The answer stands before you.”

She gestured towards the former henchmen.

“They turn to the Gene Stealers because they are immediately ostracised and cast out because we treat them like their diseased and should be quarantined. We don’t take the time to get to know each and every one of them. We don’t make the effort to ask them how they feel. We just treat them like they have the plague, inject them with some cure and then toss them back out into the world without a care for their wellbeing. They just become another statistic, another notch in the Gene Stealers’ belt and another victim of a system that will drag their feet in compensating them for all the torment they have suffered just because they were unfortunate enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time!”

Heads were nodding in the crowd. Lillian’s passion was showing through her words.

“While Vernon was wasting his time and money campaigning, I was getting to know the people who willingly turned to the Gene Stealers.”

She really hadn’t but it was a good lie… he supposed.

“You want to know what I learned?” she pressed. “They are no different from you or I. Or my son. They took one step in the wrong direction and ended up pawns in a villain’s game. Caleb could have taken that same step and then I wouldn’t know what I would do.”

Did she really feel that way or was that just part of her runaway speech?

“But I refuse to give up on them!” Lillian cried, thrusting a fist into the air. “They may have taken a step in the wrong direction, but I will do what I can to bring them two steps back in the right direction! Just one step is all that’s needed to bring them back into our world! I said before that we cannot give up hope. That we need to evolve that hope so that we can help one another. The supers and heroes stop the over all attack but then it is up to us to find the faith in the victims and hope that they will take the step back from the brink and use their newfound talents for the betterment of the world! What the Gene Stealers don’t realise is that the people they turn aren’t just meat shields to be used and thrown up against our defences! They are people and they are capable of walking on their own two feet! They just need our help!

“So please, stand with me!” Lillian was breathing heavily. “Stand with me and take that step to a better society! To a West California Island that doesn’t treat victims of our enemies like second-class citizens but as people who can enrich and enlighten the rest of us because they are not just another statistic! They are a just like us! One step! That’s all it takes! Just! One! Step!”

Cheers were erupting from the crowd. “Just One Step!” they shouted. It wasn’t everyone. Not quite yet.

“We’ve been running on this system where we just throw those we see as villains into jail,” Lillian continued, veering wildly off script. “We treat them like animals. We don’t ask why they chose this path and what we can do to help them get back on their feet! Our jails have become overcrowded, saturated with people who deserve a second chance or at least some attention. I call out to those friends and family of someone who made just a bad decision and were treated like they tried to destroy the world! We can bring them back but we just need to take that one step!”

“Just one step!” came a louder shout from the audience.

“Vernon wants to turn West California Island into a glorified jail! If we allow an acting military general to take over as mayor, that’s exactly what he’ll turn our Island into! Our Island will become a military boot camp where those of us with no powers are forced into compliance by those that do have powers because they are going to be turned into tools for a corrupt general or they will be thrown into jail for insubordination.”

There was no proof of that. Hank had explicitly told Lillian to avoid mentioning General Washington. He had wanted her to maintain the air of a concerned housewife trying to make the world better for her kids not a politician attacking her opponent. Strangely, it was working. It was clear more than a few people had their doubts about an acting military man taking office and they too joined the chant of ‘Just one step’.

“We are just one step from a better world!” Lillian shouted. “Just one step from shattering these divides between supers, Outsiders and the general public! We are one people so let us take that one step together! Remember: Just One Step!”

“Just One Step!” the crowd roared. “Just One Step!”

“When you’re in those voting booths, if you’re thinking about voting for Vernon Washington, just remember you are just one step from making the right decision and voting for me, Lillian Hale! I have lived and raised my children on this Island and I want to take that step with you!”

“Just One Step! Just One Step!”

The crowd was whipped into a frenzy and Caleb allowed himself to sigh in relief. All of Hank’s hard work didn’t go to waste. All that planning, all that effort and careful considerations had some effect. He just hoped that people outside of this small gathering would get his mom’s message of unity and acceptance. There was a part of him that was stoked by her words. Going on the offensive against Vernon Washington felt satisfying. After weeks of doing nothing, it finally felt good to go back against the conniving ass who was so confident in his wind that he didn’t need to campaign anymore after the first few days since his announcement as a mayoral candidate.

This really was progress!

Lillian raised her paws, gesturing for silence. There was more to say. Maybe about the state weather manipulators which was a big pressing issue Hank wanted her to touch on. Being in perpetual winter was something that a lot of people were complaining about. As the crowd quietened down, the applause died with it. The steadying thrumming of the helicopter rotors beat a steady rhythm leaving only the single, loud, thumping clapping to overpower the ensuing silence.

Caleb perked his ears. The slow applause was loud not only in volume but in sarcasm. He could just imagine GG Guinness as the owners of the paws producing the grating noise. The audience began to part, moving away from the source. The police men slowly reached for their weapons and he soon realised why. The owner was a tall, towering, broad-shouldered figure draped in a long, black cloak, a hood over his features. Despite the hood, there was no hiding that enormous frontal horn of a rhinoceros.

“That’s a really touching sentiment, Candidate Hale,” boomed the fur. His voice was as loud as it was deep; its tones shaking Caleb to the core.

Mary’s mind linked with his and he could feel the others attached to the network as well. “I don’t like this,” she warned. “I’m going to try to read his mind.”

“Don’t do it, Mary,” Rhiannon warned. “I’m sensing a lot of destruction coming from this guy. He’s here to make a point and the only time I got that feeling was from Tibia.”

“All the better reason to find out who he is.”

The figure strode forward. Police forces immediately lifted their weapons, demanding that he back off or stay where he was. The stranger just continued striding forward. “You want to give everyone a hug. Make them feel like they’re wanted. You believe that people turn to the life of villainy because they either missed an opportunity or were forced into it. You acknowledge that there was a choice made and it was inherently a bad one. But you also naively believe that those very same people want to come back from the darkness.”

Suddenly, a paw fell on Caleb’s shoulder and he jerked aside to find that it was Leon. His brother’s powers to go unnoticed were truly terrifying though it seemed that physical contact dispelled the illusion.

“We’ve got to get mom out of here,” he whispered softly. “Now.”

Lars nodded in his direction. “Get her and Hank out. We’ll handle the rest.”

Then alarm erupted from Mary’s senses and before she abruptly severed the connection, she threw them three, terrifying words.

“It’s the Gimp!”

The man seized his cloak and abruptly threw it aside, revealing his full form. Caleb’s heart immediately raced to a million beats per minute. The Gimp, once an admittedly immense human, was now a towering, rhino stacked with muscle. To hide his immense height, the Gimp had been crouching down but without the cloak, he was able to rise up to is full height of eleven feet. His body was wrapped in tendrils of lean veins; running up his massive, arms covered in a chalky-white, leathery hide. Thick bands of black leather were wrapped about halfway up his forearms and three more were wrapped around each bicep. Silvery clasps bound them in place. There wasn’t a single strand of hair on his arms or even on his broad, striated pectorals. In their place were two, huge, square piercings, dangling from his bloated, black nipples like they might as well been links in an enormous chain. A leather harness was strapped to his chest, forming an ‘X’ across his torso before wrapping back around towards his back. A solid eight-pack was partially hidden by a softer, rounded gut but that bulge was dwarfed in comparison to the cock and balls that were wrapped in a tight-looking leather pouch just below. His legs were left bare, huge and framing his enormous genitals in twin walls of heavy muscle pressing up against his alabaster hide. Thick, black, leather boots covered his massive feet. To complete the ensemble, he wore a black mask over his head. It only covered the upper part of his face, ending at the top part of his jaw and leaving the lower jaw exposed but there was no hiding his deep, black eyes or that enormous, black horn with a slightly smaller one placed just behind it. Even his small, leaf-like ears were wrapped in the leather. Six heavy, silver rings pierced his biggest horn, jangling slightly with every movement.

“Why is he a rhino?” Caleb wondered aloud. “Isn’t he meant to be an elephant just like Tibia?”

Jacob placed himself in front of Caleb, pushing the young wolf back. “Seems like the Gene Stealers are really pushing the envelope by subverting expectations.” With a glance over his shoulder, he said, “Get Lillian Hale out of here.”

“But -!”

“Go!”

The fierce order had Caleb spinning around and leaping up onto the stage. He immediately grabbed his mother’s shoulder and pulled her off the bone-platform, her bodyguard following close by. Around him, the crowd was quickly peeling away from the Gimp even as the leather-enthusiast spread his arms as if to welcome the challenge of the fight. He froze when doors and windows in the nearby buildings shattered outward. Towering rhinos - not as big as the Gimp - emerged; all dressed in leather-themed uniforms and wielding weaponry made entirely out of black or brown leather. Unlike Tibia’s men who seemed to be well-versed in ranged combat, these henchmen - were armed with bludgeoning tools like hammers, gauntlets and maces. Their uniforms were reminiscent of the Gimp’s former outfit; a sleeveless leather top pressed against their strong pectorals and outlining their slightly rounded belly, long leather pants outlining their massive quads that seamlessly melded into their boots and a leather mask with a zipper that hid their lips.

He had to get his mother out of here. He also couldn’t just abandon his team. The pain of watching Lars and his friends transform under the influence of Tibia was still fresh in his mind.

But so were Mary’s words.

“Have faith in us, Caleb.”

Faith. He had to have faith in his team. Yes, they were beaten and bruised but they were stronger now than they were before. He had to have faith in them. Besides, Jacob was already here. There was no way he would ever let them fall to a weirdo like the Gimp.

“Come on,” he whispered towards Lillian, pulling her towards the rear of the stage. “Flare Blue and the others can take it from here.”

******

The ambush was well-planned but seemed to have a wide opening. As Caleb took Lillian back stage and away from the fight, Jacob noticed that none of the leathermen had emerged from the same direction Caleb was retreating; they only came out from the front of the stage despite said stage being erected in the middle of a street. Admittedly, there were no people there since it was the direction their staged fight had occurred but it left a means of retreat. Maybe they just didn’t want to get accidentally caught in the fight and thus revealed prematurely.

Still, it all smacked of prior knowledge.

And no one besides the former boneheads knew about this event.

Could he have misplaced his trust in one of them? Despite the days he had spent with each one, the opportunities offered by AEGIS, did one of them remain loyal to the Gene Stealers and betray them? In his line of work, everything was a possibility and though he hated to think that someone was willing to turn traitor despite all the opportunities presented to them, he had long accepted that people could still surprise him. It was not about planning for every eventuality nor was it about controlling all the variables. It was about giving people the choice to do as they pleased and living with your own choices.

He felt Mary’s mental link brush against his consciousness. There was a distinct lack of confidence in the act like; likely some fear over having caused so much pain towards the others during the Tibia invasion. “What do we do?” she asked.

Jacob waited for any of the others to chime in only to realise that they were waiting for him to reply. Every second counted so he quickly made up his mind.

“I’ll target the Gimp. The rest of you get the civilians to safety.”

Felix suddenly appeared beside him, cracking his knuckles ominously. White bones began springing up around his body, wrapping around his form and adding a sense of menace. “We’ll help,” he rumbled. “I am not going to follow some asshole like Tibia again.”

“Is that wise?” Rhia warned. “How do we know that none of them were the ones that betrayed us?”

“Same reason you trust me,” Jacob answered. “Faith.”

“Honestly. I don’t trust you. Why are you facing off against Tibia?”

“Because his speciality is pain and I can’t feel pain, remember?”

“Fair point.”

That settled, Jacob strode forward to the Gimp’s grinning face.

“I bet you’re just waiting for me to show you how I transform others, right?” the Gimp chuckled, his voice deep and rumbling. His leather-bound were forming a rough barrier behind the crowd, keeping a good number of them from fleeing. Some police officers were trapped amongst them. A majority of Lillian Hale’s audience still managed to escape. “But the most delicious part about pain is the mystery behind it. When you don’t know where the agony is coming from, when you don’t know what it means, it adds that much…” He licked his lips, making a slurping noise with a long, slimy tongue. “… delectable.”

Mary’s shudder of disgust was felt through the entire psychic network even though she had mostly severed it.

Suddenly, a member of the civilians screamed. The man clutched his head and fell to his knees. His hands erupted into big, grey, leathery digits, three times larger than his former. Muscles erupted all over his body, tearing through his clothing. Though formerly skinny, his belly burst forward like a spear, sending buttons popping off in all directions even as the rest of his body hardened like steel. His features twisted into a look of agony… before becoming a look of lust. A long, towering horn shot out from his nose, pulling the rest of his features and forming it into a distinct rhino’s features. Down south, his cock ripped through his pants, mirroring the upward slant of his facial horn. As his cum came shooting out, black ribbons erupted from nowhere, wrapping around his arms, legs and torso, even his neck.

“Yeeeees!” the man roared, his voice several octaves deeper. “It hurts soooooo goood!” He flexed his newfound muscles, pressing them against the leather that had bound him. When he opened his eyes, they were completely black; no irises, no sclera. Just inky black like the leather that dominated the Gimp’s forces.

Similar cries were erupting from the rest of the audience and even some of the police.

“What the…?” Jacob whispered.

The Gimp’s grin grew wider. “Your face… Yes!” He took a step forward and Jacob instinctively took a step back. “That look on your face. That uncertainty. That doubt! It seasons your pain all the more! I must taste it!”

Despite all his experiences across different dimensions, the Gimp’s words and actions still sent chills down his spine. The maddened rhino charged at him, arms out and hands made into claws like a starved madman at a buffet. Gallons of drools were running down the Gimp’s chin, black eyes wide enough to actually show his sclera. Jacob took one step back and then steeled himself. Lars and the rest of Arsenal were scrambling, rushing to protect the uninfected civilians. Felix and the liberated henchmen charged at their leather-bound counterparts, clashing bone against leather. There was no one to help him.

That was fine. The Gimp was far more dangerous than Tibia. In many ways, Tibia was still new to the game between heroes and villain with a naive perspective. The Gimp had experience and that was clearly enhanced by a cunning that belied his enormous physique. If he had learned anything from the boneheads, it was that they were compelled by the senior Gene Stealers to follow the orders of their Original even if said Original was uncreative and idiotic. Even if the leather-bound were powerful and more skilled than their Original, they would be forced to come to said Original’s aid if they got into trouble.

That was what Jacob was planning to do; make the Gimp cry out for help and bring all the attention to himself. Then Arsenal and Felix could take care of the rampaging civilians while he took out the more dangerous opponents.

He placed his left paw against his hip then slowly wrapped placed the fingers on his right just in front of his curled fist. The rhino took a typical stance against him; lowered head and horns out. The earth shook with every thunderous step.

“Kosetsu,” he whispered.

Then he flicked his wrist. The air around him became deathly cold and frost formed around his feet, bypassing the salt that would’ve kept the roads from icing over. The Gimp came within a few feet of him before suddenly grinding to a halt but still dragged forward by the thin sheet of ice. The enormous, leather-clad Original grit his teeth together, just stopping an inch away from the pure-white blade that Jacob held. The curved weapon was reminiscent of a katana but was strangely missing its guard - its tsuba. It almost seemed completely flat, almost paper thin and could only be truly viewed from the side where its blade was clearly visible. The Gimp must have some keen eyesight to have seen the thin blade from head on. A white and ice-blue grip was barely visible between Jacob’s fingers. Sky-blue tassels shaped like snowflakes burst from the base of the pommel, dancing gently in the chilling wind.

“You aren’t using your lightning blade,” rumbled the Gimp, his savage smile evening out slightly. That smile transferred to Jacob instead.

“What? Were you hoping that with your control over leather, you’d insulate yourself against Sturmspalter? You forget. I’ve got a whole arsenal behind me.”

Jacob thrust the blade forward. He didn’t expect to strike anything and the Gimp didn’t disappoint. The huge, pale-white rhino danced back, teeth gnashed together with each of his steps cracking the thin layer of ice beneath him. Wilhelm Whip, however, was not prepared for the follow up strike. A localized blizzard came erupting from behind Jacob; a burst of snow so powerful that it was completely blinding. The Gimp let out a cry of shock as he was enveloped in the flurry. It was only a brief blast but it was enough. In the moment where the Gimp’s visibility was blanketed, Jacob rushed forward, carried by the gale of the blizzard. Kosetsu bit into the Gimp’s flesh as he slipped past the rhino. Snowflakes danced past him.

The Gimp grunted. There was a paper-thin slice against his right thigh. No blood dripped as the wound was already frozen stiff, ice seeping into the blood vessels and freezing nerves.

“You realised that no matter how much pain you inflict upon me, I will never give up as that’s my turn-on,” the Whip rumbled. “Your goal isn’t to subdue through pain. It’s to disable me. Clever.”

His back to the Gimp, Jacob tried not to look worried. Those words smacked of someone who had a plan. It was either Whip would unveil some sort of secret technique or start running.

“Clearly I was ill-prepared for this fight.”

Black leather erupted from the ground like a hundred, thin snakes shooting out of the earth and racing straight towards Jacob. The blonde-haired wolf spun around, swinging Kosetsu in a wide arc. Icy blades shaped like shuriken erupted from the arc of his swing. They raced out, snapping at the winding leather and freezing them entirely in pace. With his free paw, Jacob snapped his fingers and the frozen lengths shattered in an instant.

The Gimp, on the other hand, was racing up the side of a building. It was fascinating watching the huge, bulky rhino leaping entire storeys at a time, punching holes into the concrete to form handholds and propelling himself up to the next level.

“So he decided to run,” Jacob said, a grin on his muzzle. “I almost feel bad hunting down a near-extinct species.”

He took a second to check on the rest of Arsenal. With their newfound powers, the team was holding up on their own and had thus far avoided transformation. Lars - who had always been a long-raged fighter - was holding his own against the leather-bound henchmen. Even as the rhinos swung their black weapons, Lars was able to block and counter. One paw was equipped with his flaming bone spike and the other was wreathed in blue flames. A leather-bound swung a huge maul at him and Lars held it back with his spike. Then he thrust his other paw and encased the rhino in a torrent of searing-hot flames. The smell of burnt rubber filled the air.

Mary was engaged with the most number of foes from both wild civilians and equipped henchmen. She danced past them, leaping over broad backs, sliding between tree-trunk thighs and somersaulting over wide swings. She kicked, punched and chopped with frightening precision. Whether this all due to her new ‘bone sense’ or not didn’t matter as the results saw her enemies irritated and weakened. Her blows didn’t do much damage to the thick-hided rhinos, however, but they certainly got their attention. All so that they could be brought towards the ‘kill zone’.

That was where both Bren and Madman shone. Staying back on the stage, the two and only ones armed with AEGIS-issue stasis weapons, they picked out the charging rhinos as Mary led them towards the duo. It was almost a scene right out of a zombie movie as the rhinos charged almost heedlessly towards them while they unloaded their weapons into the horde, freezing them in place whilst encased in an aura of blue light.

“I’m recharging!” Bren shouted and tossed his rifle aside. “You know what to do!”

“This still sounds fucking weird,” Madman rumbled and shouldered his enormous chain stasis cannon. With one, huge paw, he seized Bren’s neck and gave it one twist. Jacob could hear the sickening crack of snapping bone from where he stood. Bren’s body toppled to the ground, the black sunglasses hiding his eyes dropping aside. Madman seized his partner’s ankle and threw the limp body boldly into the charging rhinos. As Bren’s body sailed through the air, it began undergoing changes. The flailing limbs convulsed and tusks emerged from the tiger’s jaw. Muscles burst, the tailored suit and polished shoes ripped and shred into pieces, orange and black fur falling away in favour of thick, grey, leathery-hide. There was a thunderous boom as a new, wild, totally instinctive elephant landed on the ground complete with black stripes along his hide reminiscent of a tiger’s. The trumpeting cry from his arched trunk attracted the wild rhinos around him and they swarmed him even as he fought valiantly back.

At the same time, the respawn device that Bren had set up just a few feet behind Madman sprang to life. In a flash of light, Bren was back - suit and all - and swiping up his now charged stasis rifle.

Not too far away, Ben was facing off against the greatest number of the Gimp’s henchmen and for good reason; his blood cowl. The huge, blood-coloured werewolf had his ghostly, blood phantom hovering over him, seemingly acting autonomously as he clawed, bit and fought his way through multiple leather-bound. He worked perfectly in synch with his own blood guardian. A henchman swung a hammer at him and he caught it by its head. His guardian then reached forward, yanking the rhino off the ground and throwing it wildly behind him. Clearly the leather-bound saw him as the greatest threat.

They were winning.

Still, something about the entire scene struck Jacob as odd. Previously, Tibia had unleashed four squads of twenty against them at Callista Heights. A quick count of the henchmen around him and he noticed that there were two keeping Lars pinned, one chasing Mary and leading other civilian rhinos towards her, four using the maddened and mutated bystanders at Bren and Madman while the remaining five were keeping Ben busy. Nine were fighting Felix and the rest of the former boneheads.

Twenty in total.

Where were the rest?

Something was definitely off.

Jacob watched the Gimp disappear onto the roof of a nearby building. There was probably a full group waiting for him up there as a trap. He raced first towards Mary, tapping her on the should briefly as he passed. She immediately opened a psychic link towards him.

“Mary, get me a link to Rhiannon.”

“You got it.”

He raced towards the side of the building that the Gimp had scaled. Blocks of ice erupted from the brick, forming an albeit slippery staircase all the way up to the top.

“Rhia, can you hear me?”

Strangely… there was no response.

“Rhiannon. Now is not the time for the silent treatment. Something is weird about this whole thing. I’m expecting another battalion of rhinos to meet me the moment I get to the Gimp but that’s at least two groups of the four that Felix and the others said were distributed to the other members of the Legion of Pain. That leaves two others unaccounted for. I need you to find them.”

Still nothing and he was starting to worry.

His fear skyrocketed the moment he got to the roof… and just found the Gimp waiting for him, grinning from ear to ear.

“Have you figured it out yet?” rumbled Wilhelm Whip.

Jacob gripped Kosetsu tightly and placed it against his hip, assuming a typical samurai stance. “I know this is a trap but I will admit that you’ve got me stumped right now.”

“I’m honestly disappointed,” Whip sighed. “And here I thought you were Arsenal’s trump card and the one that would solve all their problems. Let me give you a hint.”

Jacob suddenly felt something hot and long snap against his left ankle, tightening upon it and squeezing his flesh. Once glance down and he noticed a strap of leather had been hiding just at the edge of the rooftop, invisible to him when he had leapt over it onto the roof. It tightened around his ankle, making him grimace in pain.

… in pain.

His eyes widened. “Oh no…”

The Gimp grinned broadly, throwing his huge arms into the air. “And he finally gets it!” Wilhelm Whip tapped the side of his head with a viciousness entering his grin. “You see, Tibia was a fool. He was granted great power but he failed to use it. Even when he transformed and obtained the power to control and manifest bones, he didn’t develop it, he didn’t have the endurance to take on more. As for me, on top of being able to manifest leather, I obtained another power.” He reached out, making a crushing gesture with his hand.

Black straps of leather erupted from the ground and snapped around Jacob’s wrists, pulling the wolf down to his knees. The grip of the leather was agonising and with them wrapped around his wrists, they forced his fingers apart and for Kosetsu to fall from his paw.

“The power to nullify superpowers,” rumbled the Gimp.

That was the trap.

The Gimp was going to isolate each member of Arsenal, neutralise their powers which they were forced to use in this situation and then defeat them. He was using the bystanders as fodder to keep them all at bay while the leather-bound kept them on their toes. Whip had purposefully targeted Jacob first knowing he was the likely the first to figure it out and was the most dangerous.

“You’re probably thinking about telling your little psychic demigod about this, aren’t you?” the Gimp asked, leaning forward and seizing Jacob’s cheeks in one hand. “Go ahead. It’s already too late. You weren’t the first to be subdued.”

Rhiannon.

They had gotten Rhiannon first.

“Her illusions,” Jacob sneered. “You knew that even with all your powers, Rhiannon’s illusions could hide us from you and then we’d be able to use our powers the moment we got all this leather off us.”

Whip laughed. “Exactly right. Does it hurt that you weren’t the first on our hit list?”

“The betrayal hurts more.”

The Gimp gave him a puzzled look. “What?”

Jacob turned his own savage grin at the enormous rhino. “No one outside of Arsenal, Assault and AEGIS knows that my actual superpower is the inability to feel pain. My weapons are something else but the general public just thinks that’s what my abilities really are. It’s a misconception I’ve been purposefully fostering. But since you restricted my power and knew exactly how to make me realise that you were neutralising people’s powers, it’d made me realise one thing.” His features darkened. “We really do have a traitor in our midst.”

This time, there was no exchange of grins and the Gimp straightened. He pulled back and slammed a fist against Jacob’s cheek. Pain erupted from the impact and he could taste blood.

“You are far too clever for your own good,” mumbled Wilhelm Whip. “There were rumours that you’re some sort of interdimensional entity. A ‘god’ of sorts but we’ve dealt with gods before. Even your precious Hound of Destruction is nothing to us. Even the gods themselves are incapable of seeing us or our intentions. You are nothing to us.”

Jacob spat. Blood was mixed with his saliva. “There are no gods. Just mortals.”

“Something we can agree with.”

The leather round his wrists, ankles and neck began pulling, yanking at his limbs like he was being drawn and quartered.

“How does it feel, little wolf?” the Gimp taunted, leaning forward once more. “How does it feel to actually experience pain once in your life?”

Jacob grit his fangs together. “This is not as bad as having your tail ripped out an then having semi-organic chain-wings grafted in your spine and then being hung above a crowd of billions by said chain-wings as a gruesome trophy by a mafia boss.”

A flash of confusion crossed the Gimp’s features.

That was all he needed.

With all his strength - severely reduced by the Gimp’s abilities - Jacob lashed out and seized the Gimp’s horn with his right paw. The Gimp instinctively pulled back. With the sudden gesture and the leather bindings still wrapping around his wrist, the sudden jerk was enough to snap his shoulder right out of its socket. He cried out in agony, the pain like a volcano erupting right out from his shoulder.

Whip spat at him. “Desperate and foolish. You are not nearly as entertaining as I’d hoped you’d be.”

“Oh yeah?” he replied, panting through his sweat and pain. “Then how about this?”

Even though it hurt like lava was flowing through his veins, Jacob used his newly loosened arm to seize Kosetsu from where it fell. The Gimp saw the gesture and immediately began to retreat in surprise. Pillars of ice erupted from the ground around Jacob, slicing through the leather bands and freeing him from the Gimp’s dark influence. He staggered to his feet…

… but the pain didn’t fade.

“Wait…” he whispered.

The Gimp grinned savagely. “You truly are stupid.” Whip threw his head back with a laugh. “Your overconfidence has made you blind! Did you honestly believe that I had the power to subdue superpowers even though I was already granted another power!?”

“The third and fourth squads…” Jacob whispered. The plan was all falling into place. “One squad was used to fight us on the ground, separate us to be picked off. Another squad was used to quietly and discretely take down Rhia. The third is somewhere in these buildings with some sort of anti-super weapon that’s subduing our powers. Your fourth is probably there to ensure your escape!”

Wilhelm Whip lifted a finger at him, waggling it tauntingly. “Close but not quite. The fourth squad is going to go after our true quarry.”

“Weapons Master!?” Jacob exclaimed instinctively.

“Of course not.” The Gimp strode forward, placing himself right next to Jacob at the edge of the building. He pointed down to the ground. “Observe.”

Down on the the streets, several of the ‘civilians’ who had been transformed suddenly manifested leather-themed weapons expertly. Arsenal didn’t even notice. They were shocked when their powers suddenly stopped working that in the moment of confusion, the leather-bound they lunged at them, black leather erupting from their hands. Lars let out a cry of shock that was quickly muffled as he was wrapped in a leathery cocoon. Mary struggled valiantly but was wrapped onto the back of one of the rhinos, incapable of moving and her lips restrained by a thick strap. Blood poured down around Ben as his bloody construct collapsed. Suddenly with a huge amount of blood missing from his body, Blood Wolf dropped to his knees, severely weakened. He weakly fought back but two rhinos dragged him between them into an open, blue, shimmering portal. Bren and Madman were quickly overwhelmed by the remaining troops and dragged into a portal of their own.

Jacob moved -

Only for restraints to lunge out from behind him, wrapping around his wrists. He managed to keep a hold of Kosetsu but the distinct noise that was a mix of fabric tearing in time with electric crackling told him that a portal had opened somewhere behind him. One glance over his shoulder confirmed his suspicions with the straps having emerged from the portal. He planted his feet but whatever was connected on the other side was slowly dragging him into the maw of the shimmering, blue portal. Coupled with his baseline superpowers disabled, he was doomed to slow defeat at the hands of the Gimp.

“You’ve lost, little wolf,” chuckled the Gimp. “Shark Tamer would very much like to examine you.”

He sneered at the Gimp.

“I’ll bet. But you made one mistake.”

No ounce of confidence faded from the Gimp’s features. “And what could that be?”

“You overestimated my aversion to pain.”

With all his strength, Jacob twisted Kosetsu, pointing the blade gripped in his right paw towards his left. Just the faintest touch was enough to give him the slightest nick. Ice immediately began freezing his veins, muscles and bones, turning the restrained paw into little more than a furry Popsicle. That was enough for him to give his injured arm a yank and to shatter the limb entirely. The pain was excruciating and he screamed in agony for it but that one arm was still free. Fighting through the tears, he bent down and snapped up Kosetsu in his muzzle. Angling his head, he slashed his own remaining wrist, freezing his right paw and - like the left - shattering it entirely. With the force pulling him into the portal gone, Jacob leapt away from the swirling blue energies and faced off against the Gimp, Kosetsu in his muzzle.

There was a look of utter surprise on the Gimp’s features.

Then it turned to one of glee.

“This is fantastic!” cried Wilhelm Whip. “If I had known you were going to do that, I would have felt your pain instead of you!” He closed his eyes and his eyelids fluttered a little. The agony of having two severed wrists faded slightly before returning with a vengeance. “Yes! That was… was delicious!” Whip licked his lips again, holding up his hands. “I wish I could’ve felt that! That would’ve have been excruciating!”

He opened his eyes, grinning savagely at Jacob. Pointing a finger at Reaper, Whip said, “Next time. Next time warn me.”

A portal appeared behind him and the Gimp took one step back, placing a foot through shimmering ellipse.

“We must experience this pain together!”

The Gimp was gone a moment later and the sounds of battle quickly faded. Jacob fell to his knees. To add further insult to injury, the pain remained. The Gimp’s men clearly kept the anti-super fields on as a final ‘gift’ to the defeat defenders. Kosetsu dropped from his muzzle, clattering onto the ground.

“I shouldn’t have engaged,” he growled at himself. “I knew there was something wrong and I still let myself get dragged away by the Gimp. He knew that if I had stayed with Arsenal, I would’ve screwed up his plan. That’s why he pulled me away.” He would’ve punched the ground in frustration if he still had a paw. “Damnit!”

“Now don’t tell me you’re going to wallow in despair over this.”

Gwen. She was standing just a few feet away from him, arms folded and with unreadable features.

“Of course not.” Jacob slowly rose to his feet just as a thunderstorm began gathering from the west, approaching rapidly. Shockstorm and Siren. No doubt they would have words for him given how Lars had just been captured by the Gene Stealers; arguably worse than being turned into a raving elephant. “I was played. I should’ve been better. I will be better next time.”

“Will there even be a next time?” Gwen countered, ever the Devil’s Advocate.

“I’ll make sure there is.”

Then the faintest smile cracked that porcelain mask. “Mortal fate shall and always be in mortal hands. As can be expected from the Writer of Reality.” She stepped up next to him, grabbing one arm and draping it over her shoulders. “Come on. Maybe the Alliance will divert some rage at me for not having arrived in time and done anything to help.”

He laughed softly. “Thanks, Gwen. But I’m going to take responsibility for this debacle. Let Shockstorm and Siren wail and rail at me. I’ve got more pressing concerns.”

Then his eyes went to where the Gimp had vanished.

“Gwen… There’s a traitor in our midst. I need you to figure out who it is.”