FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Chapter 1

The Spark that Starts It All

There was no future for Ryker Wall.

At the fresh age of 22 summers and after three years of working a part-time job at a local KFC, taking up a job as an assistant for the computer labs, three years of a course in Computer Engineering, one full year of his graduate degree and now on the dawn of his Master's Degree, he suddenly hit a dead end that put all his effort to naught.

Why?

Because of copyright law.

Ryker was an aspiring videogame developer. He had big dreams of making a breakout game, putting it up on sale through an online distributor, getting rave reviews, going to all the conventions and getting so much money that he can open his own videogame company. Wall Games, he was going to call it. Even had a logo designed and everything. He was on his way too. He researched game technologies and bought licences his first year at the Manhattan Technological Institute using his own money. In his second year, he began designing the game, making sure to create something that would attract the audience and tout him as unique in the vast ocean of independently produced videogames and still compete against the triple-A developers out there.

His concept was what he called a 'quest network' where every monster in the game could be recruited but every monster also had quests - sometimes multiple - that could contribute to said recruitment value. He intended it to be impossible to recruit everyone in a single playthrough thus adding to replay value. One had to be very careful which adversaries one actually fought, killed, recruited or ran away from.

It was going to be a monumental task so he wanted to take a modular approach. Only in his third year, he started designing the engine he was going to be working on using the licenses he had acquired. Then, in his first and only year of graduate school, he took a semester of digital art so he could build the assets. In the second semester, he began a crowd funding project for his game. In just a month, he met all his goals and he began posting work in progresses on line. Just before Christmas and the first year of his Master's Degree, he posted an early access online.

Then came the horror.

A Triple-A developer known only as Syntax Games, had gotten word of his idea from his crowd funding project. They rushed something through development and released a beta just after he did. Critics lauded 'Wildlands by Syntax' as a 'revolutionary commentary on modern gaming' with 'a vast cast of unique characters that never get old' and 'an art style that feels like playing a Pixar_movie'. The _real pain came when Syntax filed a lawsuit that prevented him from continuing development on his game.

They claimed that he_stole the idea from them and that any further development on _'This is Our Land' was going to infringe on their copyright. Though there was evidence online that he had officially gone public with his works before Syntax, there was no way to get any proof that Syntax had been developing the technology beforehand and had already been working on Wildlands. Ryker's friend and roommate, Cliff Runner, told him that it would be next to impossible to prove, beyond reasonable doubt, that Syntax's claims were false but at the same time, it was impossible for him to claim that they were infringing on his copyright as well. After all, _Syntax_used their own customised engine. Ryker bought a game engine.

"This ain't a battle over intellectual property dude," Cliff confessed, resting a paw hard on Ryker's shoulder.

The tall tiger with what he described as 'incredibly fluffy cheeks' sat beside Ryker as they both stared at the cease and desist order plastered on his screen complete with the official seal of the local judiciary committee. Cliff, still smelling of the gym, wore only a bright green singlet that was wrapped too tightly around his muscular torso. Whether it was the A/C in the room or the fact that they were really pronounced, Cliff's nipples were poking through the thin fabric of the shirt. At 6'9'', he was on the college basketball team while studying to be a lawyer. Lean, strong and one of the friendliest guys that Ryker had ever met, Cliff was the kind of guy that would get fired up about a project and offer his support even if he did next to nothing else. That, and he spoke like he was half-drunk most of the time and fresh from a frat party.

Not that Ryker really minded. Between the frat boy persona and the fact that Cliff wore a pair of revealing shorts, the young, grey-furred wolf found his roommate to be the foil to his introverted nature. You just could not say 'no' to Cliff.

Except when _he_was saying 'no'.

"It's 'bout keeping ya down," Cliff said, chugging down a soda while he spoke. Bits of cola was dribbling down his chin but he just caught it on the back of his other paw and lapped it up with his long, rough tongue. "They're trying ta scare ya. They got all them lawyers behind them and even if ya got the right, you're gonna have to spend a fortune proving it."

Sighing, Ryker slumped forward, resting his chin against the spacebar of his keyboard. The cursor slowly trailed through the document, adding more and more white spaces. Symbolic given how that was just how he felt, empty. "More than I can afford."

"Exactly. They can take the hit bit by now, word's probably gone out that their game is awesome. They've probably already got the preorders out. Even if your thing throws ups a scandal, it won't stop people from buying their game and probably comparing it to yours."

"And they've got the full power of a Triple-A developer to power through the rest of the game and have it out there before it even reaches court." He clasped both his paws over his head, digging his blunted claws into his coarse, brown hair. Years of tapping away at a keyboard had filed down his claws to a nub. Unlike the sharpened claws that Cliff had drawn and were slowly raking down his back. It wasn't even clear how or when Cliff realised that Ryker really liked his back scratched but once he found out, he took every opportunity to give the smaller, slimmer wolf a little back scratch especially when he was depressed or feeling like a shut-in. After a back rub, Ryker was putty in anyone's hands.

"The way I see it, ya got two options, bro," Cliff said. "Either ya fight this in court or you make adjustments to your concept so it ain't what Syntax is selling."

"But then won't it just happen again later on?" He straightened, momentarily immune to the hypnotic claws drawing circles through his shirt. With his middle finger, he gestured at the now blank, white document on his screen. "Those assholes will just take my idea again and sell it like they did with This is Our Land! I've already got the crowd funded money as well! I can't not release something!"

"Then why don'tcha start another crowd fund to fight Syntax? Your supports know what's up, right?"

He spun around in his spinning chair. Though he was remiss to be freed of the mesmerising spell of Cliff's claws, his future was at stake. The back scratches could come later. "But you just said that I probably won't win!"

Cliff grinned at him, those sharp teeth splitting his broad square features and cutting into those huge, fluffy cheeks of his. No matter how much weight he lost or how much he worked out, he could never get rid of what he called his 'chubby cheeks'. It was a hair trigger for him. Just mention of those cheeks would immediately send him into a testosterone-fuelled, alpha-male rant. "Depends on what you're fighting for, bro. If it's to stop Wildlands from being made, then you're probably going to lose. But if it's your right to make your game without them stopping you, you'll probably win..." His smile wavered a little. "... probably in a year or two."

And thus the crux of Syntax's tactic. They knew that he could never keep up a sustained battle in court on top of his studies, his job and development of his game. As Cliff began to explain, Syntax was probably going to throw delaying tactic after delaying tactic until such a time that their game was released. Then there would be other developers that would copy off the technology or at least the concept. It would leave This is Our Land at the bottom of the rung. Even if Ryker was the first to come up with the idea and implement the technology, his game would be the last to be released in a market that was already inundated with much better products.

"At this point, it almost sounds like they're just doing this out of spite," he muttered miserably. He slumped forward again, catching his head on his arms. The brown edges to his otherwise grey cheek ruffs brushed against his arms.

"Business is brutal, bro," Cliff said with an easy-going shrug. "But like I said, you could always just come up with something different."

"How!?" Ryker howled, throwing both his paws into the air. "I spent the last four years_building this, Cliff. How am I just supposed to come up with something _different? That's four years wasted!"

His roommate could only offer him a helpless shrug. "Dude, you know I'm shit with all this technology stuff." He then knelt down, reaching up with both his meaty paws to rest them on Ryker's comparatively scrawny shoulders. Just the rising of the tiger's armpits was enough for the feline's strong body odour to waft from those brown-blonde tufts under his arms and straight into Ryker's nostrils. He tried not to wrinkle his nose too much in disgust. "But you've got my support, okay? You can bounce ideas off me or whatever. I'm here for you."

A heavy knock came to the door just as Ryker was starting to warm over the idea of having a sounding board.

"Hold that thought," Cliff said, lifting a finger. The naturally blonde tiger rose and skipped soundlessly towards the door. Pulling it open revealed Cliff's best friend, Arthur Penn.

Arthur was much bigger than Cliff but not necessarily in the 'best' way. Arthur was a boar and though Ryker tried not to think in stereotypes, the guy had a fair share of belly fat to carry around. He had strong, vascular arms and a powerful chest but his dense, brown fur covered a protruding, rotund belly that barely fit the shirt he was wearing. He was also very hairy. It was possible to see the outline of the thick treasure trail through the white shirt and where it connected with the growths on his chest which poked out of the shockingly deep neckline. A tribal fang necklace hung around his neck and even though January had just started, all he wore was a dark green sleeveless parka and a pair of shorts, just like Cliff. To his credit, Arthur had some very large legs and those shorts left little to the imagination. How the big boar could survive out in the cold snow of Manhattan with just sandals, Ryker could not fathom.

"Bro!" Cliff exclaimed.

"Bro!" Arthur cried back. The two immediately went to go for a hug but because Arthur was so much wider than the tiger, he hit the door frame with his enormous arms, doubling back for a moment in confusion at the impact. There was a real 'dumb-fratboy' moment where they awkwardly tried to hug each other even with the door half-closed between them before Cliff finally realised he could open the door all the way and Arthur could come in. Only then did they hug.

Ryker had to admit that there was something charmingly innocent about the exchange that it actually lifted his spirits a little.

"Dude, you ready to go?" Arthur rumbled, his voice like the low rumble of thunder coming from his thick neck. He jerked a chin covered in a well-trimmed, black goatee at Ryker. "Sup, little man."

"Hi Arthur," Ryker mumbled, forcing a smile.

The boar frowned and turned to Cliff. "Bro, what's wrong with your little bro?"

"He was just hit with a cease and desist order," answered Cliff. Then his green eyes brightened. "Dude, I just got an awesome idea! Let's invite him to the club tonight!"

Arthur frowned. "Bro, I don't think that's such a good idea..."

"It'll be fine," Cliff insisted with a dismissive wave. He turned to Ryker with a big grin. "Come on, man. It'll be fun!"

Arthur and Cliff went to some club almost every day and spent most of the night there, even cutting into the early hours of the morning. Often times, Ryker would wake up in the morning to find that Cliff hadn't made it back to the apartment they shared. Only after class would he find his roommate actually in the room, passed out. How Cliff ever managed to squeeze in his studies between the parties and exercise was a mystery to him. Then again, if his extroverted roommate could party and study to become a lawyer, why couldn't he work, study and develop a game while fighting a lawsuit all at the same time?

A sharp pang erupted from his heart and he remembered why. Because he had lost faith in people.

"It's okay," he said, waving Cliff away. "I think I just want to sit in today. Maybe find a tub of ice cream and finish it all by myself while watching _Game of Thrones_on Netflix."

Cliff seized his arm. "You ain't sitting here doing nothing, bro. That's the last thing you should be doing. Come on! You're going out clubbing with us."

"Cliff -"

Then the tiger's magic paws slid onto his back, claws out, and began drawing slow but purposeful lines down his back.

Funny thing about how back scratches worked for Ryker Wall; it was cumulative. That meant that even if Cliff stopped scratching for a whole day, the next time he started, the 'I'm Putty In Your Paws Meter' didn't go down. Only once he hit the limit and he was reduced to a gibbering idiot, nuzzling Cliff's paw for more did it reset.

And the tiger knew exactly how to play him.

"When are we leaving..." Ryker cooed, tail wagging and eyes shut contentedly.

"Right now! You just need to get changed!"

Cliff yanked him off his feet and shoved him immediately into the walk-in closet of the master bedroom.

Damn Cliff and his magic paws.

******

It actually wasn't the first time that Ryker had been to High-Fen. One of the more little known clubs in New York, High-Fen was located on the top floor of what had once been a massive complex. At 45 storeys tall, the complex was one of those ageing buildings that would have to go through the landmark society before it could be fully demolished. The building itself was crap and had been built early in Manhattan's development and had aged poorly. Eventually, some real estate developed decided that they had enough of arguing with protesters while maintaining the building. He instead demolished everything except the exterior of the building and then built a huge mall inside of it. As a giant middle finger to the protesters, he sold the top floor to a club owner who built High-Fen. Not wanting to stir controversy, the new owner modelled his club after nature. With plenty of trees and glass platforms with running water beneath it to simulate rivers and other forms of greenery, High-Fen prided itself on its theme of 'party in the woods'. That and the name of the club was a play on 'hyphen' and its logo was literally a hyphen. It was clever.

Apparently.

The good thing about this club was that it wasn't one of those super-noisy, dance and drink clubs where all anyone did was grind against one another, get drunk and pass out. It was a little more sophisticated than that. Everyone had to create online accounts and then book a time when they would come to the club. That way, ratios could be maintained. While there was no charge to get into the club, one could easily be rejected if the facility became too crowded. That was not a problem, however, as there was always the other 44 storeys of shopping that one could entertain themselves with. Every guest was also given a little wristband that not only ensured that everyone that entered was supposed to be there, but_also acted as a tracking device. If someone wandered off with a wristband on, it was clear that they were too drunk to remember to return the band so they could be tracked down and escorted back to their homes with little incident. _High-Fen also didn't have a bar. Instead, they had consoles littered around the area where people could order drinks and then the serving staff would bring said drinks to them using those bands.

It was innovative and prevented long lines at bars.

"Why can't I come up with something as innovative as that," Ryker muttered, nursing his first beer of the night.

As was every time he went to a club with Cliff and his ever-present shadow, Arthur, he lost track of his roommate almost immediately after they got off the lift. He had been here so often that he only had an anxiety attack for about five minutes before he wandered over to one of the consoles - making sure that there wasn't a line - before ordering himself a beer. Just a quick flick of the touch screen, a scan of his wristband and he wandered off to gaze at the skyline of Manhattan. While the deep thumping of a bass blared behind him and the club goers danced on reinforced glass floors over beautiful terrariums shaped like icosahedrons, he was left to peacefully watch the City That Never Sleeps. Only a few minutes later, his beer was brought out to him on a tray. A quick 15% tip to the waiter and he was guzzling down an organic, independently brewed beer unaffiliated with any major corporations.

Yay.

As with every 21st Century fur in the world, his paw was gravitating towards his phone before he even knew he was doing it. His eyes were already on his screen even as he was taking his third sip of the night.

"Huh..." he mumbled into the neck of his bottle. "Never seen that before."

There was a strange new icon on his phone. It was a blue 'I' symbol kind of like the kind one would see when looking for help or information. The only difference here was that the eye was that the dot of the I - tittles as they were called with Ryker patting himself mentally on the back for knowing that factoid - was shaped like a literally eye instead. A cartoonish, stylised eye almost in the style of street art but still rather creepy. There was no title beneath the icon save for another lowercase 'I'.

Curiosity got the best of him so he tapped the icon.

A loud, gong-like sound rang through the air forcing him to jerk back in surprise and hold out his phone at arm's length. A field of inverted colour erupted from where his thumb pressed against the icon, spreading out wide and fast. It washed over the grey colouration of his fur, immediately turning it white. It swept over his blue vest, the dark shirt beneath and over his tan pans. He let out a yelp, turning his muzzle away in a vain attempt to avoid the strange phenomenon but there was no escaping the rapid wave that washed over the entire area and over his body. None of the partygoers seemed to notice even if their skin, clothes and the very floor they stood on became flushed with inverted colours.

"What the hell!?" he cried.

Like his voice had triggered some effect, the colours began to return. He breathed a sigh of relief as his short, grey fur became grey once more save for the white patters under his chin, on his chest and on his palms. He patted his muzzle, checking for any damages and wondered if there was something else in the 'organic' beer that may have cause the momentary episode.

Then he noticed the others in the club.

Their colours were heavily muted like someone had dropped a huge grey veil over his eyes. Their forms were ill-defined, every line on their body made of wispy, grey smoke that wavered and flickered into his surroundings. The sounds were also heavily dulled as if he were listening in through ears full of cotton balls. From across the street, the lights in the adjacent office building flashed and blinked. There were a few people that he could see through the glass but none of them seemed to notice as the lights on several floors flickered to form a single word.

Welcome.

"Oh that's creepy..." Ryker admitted.

The building next to the first did the same thing.

Overworld.

Another one more street behind the first two did the same and all three flickered and flashed forming a statement.

You're in danger.

They were there for all of a second before the lights shifted again.

Turn around.

Fearing there was some terrible monstrosity behind him, he did. All the dancers were greyed out like he had stepped into some bizarre black-and-white noir film. Though he was on the 45th floor of a building out in the open air, there was a terrible gale that constantly blew, howling in his ears. Flecks of what appeared to be black, charred pieces of paper constantly swirled through the air, air that was stifling to breathe in and constantly smelled like someone had burnt out their graphics card. It was a sharp, metallic, smoky smell that stuck his nostrils.

Then he noticed that one other person on the dance floor was not muted like the rest.

The guy was a tabby, lean, fit and dressed as one of the waiters of High-Fen. He was carrying drinks to recipients.

Hope in his chest, Ryker moved forward just as a woman rushed towards him, she was laughing and giggling, carrying drinks alongside her two friends. He immediately flinched away from them but was surprised when their shadowy forms passed right through him. A chill ran through his spine as all three of them just slipped through him without even stopping. He waved his paw over their faces, their half-drunken stares seeing right through him. Gingerly, he tried to grab one of their shoulders. His fingers slipped right through them, seemingly pulling bits of their smoky physiques away before the wispy grey lines oozed back into their bodies.

"Oh fuck... Am I dead?"

His one hope was that guy that wasn't muted. Turning around, he spotted the waiter. Then the lights on the dance floor flashed, forming letters and eventually a single word.

Stop.

He froze.

They flashed again this time forming 'Watch'.

Ears swivelled forward, Ryker listened and observed as the waiter handed a drink to a woman in a shockingly skimpy, strapless frock. The woman took the beer, lifting it towards her lips. A strange, dark aura began emanating from the waiter. His green vest, white shirt and black pants all seemed to emanate the same, dark, wispy energy that began to coalesce above him. Ryker, covered his muzzle, preventing himself from screaming in terror as the shadow's shape became a little more distinctive; forming arms, a bulbous head and two, malicious eyes. As the woman took a drink from the beer, this creature reached out to her with one of its spindly hands. A piece of its finger seemed to break off and wiggle its way down the poor victim's throat just as she drank from the beer. Ryker could actually see the parasitic worm wiggling through her system. While the beer went down her throat, the sliver of darkness went up towards her head and seemingly buried itself into her brain before dissolving into the grey mass of her features.

"This is great!" exclaimed the woman, her voice somehow breaking through the roar of the gale and the muted nature of the world. Every word she said echoed like they were all in one enormous cave. "What is it?"

"It's a local microbrew," answered the waiter, his voice somehow sounding normal and clear as day. "It's called Summer." The tabby winked one bright, blue eye. "Taste _Summe_r all year round!"

Whatever the woman said next was muted again.

"What the hell was that!?" Ryker exclaimed.

The shadow beast immediately jerked towards him and the waiter followed a second later, a look of surprise on his feline features.

"Fuck..." whispered the waiter.

The high above them all, just behind the cat, the clouds formed a single word.

Run.

Ryker's legs immediately jerked off to the right, charging through the gaseous forms of the other club patrons and heading for the lifts. From the corner of his eye, he noticed the waiter was charging towards him. Unlike him, however, the feline seemed to have to push and shove past the numerous dancers and drinkers. That gave him a bit of an advantage as he was mostly unimpeded.

Heart racing, the grey-furred wolf staggered into the open elevator. The buttons on the lift blinked, pointing directly towards the button for the third floor. He slapped a thumb against it and then began mashing the 'close door' button. The shadowy creature over was screeching and roaring though no one else seemed to notice it. One of its claw-like hands lashed out, raking through the air and grazing the glass tiles on the floor. People screamed as those claws sliced through the glass and shattered a few lights, sending sparks flicking into the air.

Whatever that creature was, it was affecting the world around it.

That only made Ryker hit the 'close' button all the faster.

"You! Stop!" shouted the waiter.

Ding!

The doors began to close. Ryker pressed himself against the back of the lift, holding his breath as High-Fen, the waiter and his monstrous familiar vanished between the sliding, metal doors. Vertigo hit him with the movement of the elevator. A sigh of relief left him and he slumped down onto the floor, trying hard not to hyperventilate.

"What the fuck is happening...?"

He looked towards his phone, the thing that had started this entire mess. The screen was now dominated by that blue icon. There was what appeared to be six blue squares just beneath the icon at the base of his screen. There was a small display showing '100%' hovering at the top of the screen though he could only guess that was his battery power. He tapped at it a few times, avoiding the boxes. No reaction. Shaking his head, he made to press one of the squares -

Creeeeeeek!

The lift suddenly jolted to a stop, the lights flickering in and out while sparks flew down upon him. He yelped, covering his head. The screaming of metal being bent brought his attention above him. Black, ragged claws cut through the ceiling, splitting the glass and peeling back the ceiling. The red eyes of that shadow beast stared back at him. The waiter quickly poked his head through the gap. The moment he saw Ryker, he grinned.

"Thought you could sneak up on me, eh you dirty Indie?"

"W - What!?" Ryker exclaimed, holding up his paws in surrender. "What's an 'Indie'? What are you talking about and what the fuck is that thing coming out of you?"

For a second, the tabby was confused then his features split into a grin. "Oh this is too good. You're a noob. Your Function is mine!"

"My what!?"

The ghastly creature stretched out one of its hands towards him...

Ding!

And the elevator doors suddenly sprang open. There were a few people on the other side, looking like maintenance crew but he couldn't make it out given that they were all ghostly. Ryker immediately got to his feet and scrambled past the shadow's claws, bolting right through the crowd. As he passed them, he could hear the crew shouting at the waiter, demanding to know what he was doing on top of an elevator. Somehow, they couldn't see him but they could still see his stalker.

Now wasn't the time to think as he heard that very same waiter shout for him to stop and that roaring beast hot on his trail.

The third floor of the building was a mall and even this late at night, it was filled with people. He was able to put some distance between himself and the waiter but he knew he wouldn't be able to hide. If his assailant could see him clearly as he saw him, then there was no way to hide.

"That's it!" shouted his pursuer. Ryker looked over his shoulder as the tabby pulled out his own phone. The maintenance crew and even some bystanders were pulling him back, seemingly trying to restrain him. "Summer!"

Silvery-blue flames erupted from the man's phone and that same wave of inverted colours erupted from the device. Time seemed to slow as the wave washed over him and the rest of the mall. Suddenly, the tabby stumbled forward, no longer restrained by the bystanders around him. The silver flames launched in front of him, forming a disk of shimmering silver that was almost reminiscent of an old CD with how the light reflected off its surface. The shadow over his back peeled itself away from him and jumped straight through the disk.

Ryker could not help but stop in his charge as something else emerged from the other side of that circle.

A beautiful peahen dressed in nothing but her blue, green and brown feathers slipped through the disk. A laurel was wrapped around her forehead while leaves were artfully placed over her breasts and privates. A white, silken scarf was drawn across her neck and seemed to defy gravity as its two ends hovered behind her almost like a pair of glistening, alabaster wings. She clutched a huge, clay jug in both her hands, tilting it in such a way that the contents were pouring to the ground. A golden liquid that frothed when it hit the tiled floor began to slowly spread towards Ryker. The smell of alcohol was strong.

"Get him, _Summer!"_shouted the tabby.

Behind the duo, the letters over shops flashed, some going out and others remaining lit.

Keep Running.6

Ryker immediately turned back around and bolted. The sound of rushing water made him glace over his shoulder just in time to see the peahen hurl the contents of her jug towards him. That very same amber fluid came rushing at him, more than could be conceivably contained in that one jug alone. He gave a cry of terror just as he hit the escalators. The liquid collided with him, the strong boozy smell filtering through his nostrils and carrying him all the way down the escalators.

WHAM!

He crashed to the ground just as the beer - it couldn't be anything else - washed over him. Some of it even went down his throat and he was instantly hit with a strangely warm sensation. No more than a mouthful must have rushed down his muzzle but his thoughts were already starting to get fuzzy like he had one too many.

Coughing, spluttering, he tried to rise only for his sneakers to slip on the spilled booze and for him to crash to the ground again, smashing his chin against the tiles.

"Never thought I'd actually have to face an Indie myself," boasted the waiter, striding down the soaked escalators cockily. Ryker spun in place, watching as the tabby passed right through the confused, ghostly bystanders. The escalator seemed to have suddenly stopped for them. "The guys at the corporation said they'd keep you bastards away from me but I guess you can't stop accidental activations. No matter. I'll just take your Function for myself."

Ryker began scrambling back but his paws were slipping and sliding all over the booze-covered tiles. How could the tabby maintain traction even as he stepped over the same slick tiles?

"What do you want? Who are you!?"

The cat laughed softly, flicking back his slicked, black hair and pressing a finger against his forehead. With a shake of his head, the man said, "That's right. You have no idea what you've gotten into." He glanced to Ryker's right were the young wolf's phone sat. Ryker followed the gaze and saw that the indicator had dropped down to 95%. "Let me guess. You saw a little icon on your phone and you pressed it, right?"

"Y - Yeah! That's all I did! I swear, I have no idea what happened! I don't know what's going on!"

The smug, athletic waiter stepped forward, his peahen hovering behind him with her clawed feet barely grazing the ground. "They say curiosity killed the cat. There's got to be some irony in that." He jerked his chin at him. "But let me enlighten you. You just entered the Overworld, kid."

Ryker waited for an explanation and the tabby sighed.

"Think of it as an 'Internet of the Mind'. A Psychic Net. At least that's how it was explained to me." He spread his arms, gesturing at the mall around him. "Everything you see around you is the collective representation of the world's people. Even the shadows you see around you, they're the minds of the people."

"Oh... Okay..." Ryker murmured softly. He wasn't sure what any of this meant but the more the man spoke, the more time he had to think of some way to get away. Gloating seemed to have stopped the tabby's advance towards him.

"When I was first introduced to the Overworld, I was just starting up my own microbrewery. Then some corporate suits came up to me and said they wanted to buy me off. You know, I was actually proud enough to refuse them?" The cat scoffed more at himself than at Ryker. "I thought, 'hey, if these corporate big shots are nervous enough to think they have to buy me off, I can make it big on my own!' Boy was I wrong."

"I'm sorry..." Ryker began, trying to lengthen the conversation as much as possible. Maybe someone would come to his aid if he just kept the guy talking long enough. "But I actually didn't get your name."

The tabby was confused for a second. "Oliver. Oliver Klein. Founder of Klein Breweries and_Summer_."

"That beer you were giving to people?"

"Wholly organic and my own very special blend." Oliver rolled his eyes. "At least that's what I kept advertising. But you know what? None of it mattered. The moment I refused those Corpsmen, all my customers just up and vanished." He made an exploding gesture with his paws. "Poof. Gone. Suddenly, demand had dried up. I thought they had been bribed or bought out. I wanted to file a lawsuit but there was no evidence. People just didn't want Summer anymore. Then, they showed me the Overworld."

"This place?"

"Yes." Oliver took a step forward and Ryker scrambled back only to fall back on his back. The tabby placed a foot on his chest, compressing his lungs and making his rapid breaths even shorter. "You know about trends? Memes? Fads? The 'hot news'? They don't just start because something is popular. They start because corporations get into Overworld and get their Corpsmen to implant _ideas_and selective information into the people around them. They literally control people's minds by 'Inception-ing' the psychic imprints of those people in the Overworld!"

Ryker's eyes widened in shock. "That's what you were doing to that lady..."

The feline pointed a finger at him, 'firing' it off like a gun. "Now you're getting it. Only way I was ever going to make money and sell Summer was if I joined a corporation, got my own IP and turned it into a Dosers."

"Uh... what?"

Oliver rolled his eyes in exasperation. As he did so, he plucked Ryker's phone off the ground. With his other paw, he hiked his thumb at the peahen behind him. "IP. Intellectual Property. They're basically the physical representation of an idea in the Overworld. But the funny thing about ideas is that everyone always has their own version of that idea. It's like if you hold up one of those Rorschach tests. Everyone will always see something different. That's the same with an IP. All those different versions will become one IP and that same IP will develop its own personality based on those perceptions." Oliver glanced over his shoulder at the hovering peahen with disgust. "Summer was such a whiner back then." His voice went high and mocking, ears folded back. "Oh Oliver, we can't sell out. What about our artistic integrity? Oh Oliver, what about just making good beer that isn't mass produced? Oh Oliver, it's not about the money." He blew a raspberry and turned his back to the striking woman. "I turned her into a Doser and that shut her up."

Ryker just gave the tabby a blank link.

"Shit you're dumb," sighed the cat. "DDoS. Directed Denial of Service. We call them Dosers. They're basically IPs that have been sterilised so that they are the purest version of themselves and obey their Hosts without question. They are also the only ones that can implant ideas into others and start off a trend."

Slowly, Ryker was starting to catch up with the terminology. "Host... You're the Host because you're literally hosting this IP within you. You're directing your IP to deny other services to people by implanting your idea in their minds."

"Now you're getting it." Oliver regarded the phone in his paws with a smirk. "Too bad it's all for nothing." One of his bushy eyebrows rose. "Huh. You seem to have a neat Function too. 'Break'. I wonder what that does." He grinned at Ryker. "Too bad you'll never find out."

Now was the time to act.

"Says you!"

Ryker suddenly jerked to the right. Thanks to the supernaturally slippery nature of the booze his was lying on, there was no traction at all with his movement. It allowed him to immediately slip out from underneath Oliver and, at the same time, take out the tabby's legs right out from underneath him. Because Oliver had been standing on him, the cat toppled over as he slid easily to the right. There was a painful yowl as Oliver's open muzzle hit the floor. Ryker thought he saw a tooth or at least part of one go flying. He scrambled to his feet and, still slipping around, slid back towards Oliver. Using the very booze that Summer had used against him, he slipped past Oliver, snatching his phone back and back towards the next flight of escalators.

Summer didn't move.

Because Dosers were sterilised IPs that obey their Hosts without question. That meant that because Oliver didn't command Summer to attack, she wasn't going to attack. Ryker grinned at his own ingenuity then realised that he had lost track of where he was sliding. His eyes widened in terror as the glass windows came rushing towards him.

"Oh shit!"

The street lights across from him shimmered.

Jump.

"Fuck, this is the quick time tutorial!" he cried. Unable to do anything else, he crouched...

... and vaulted himself through the glass.

The window immediately shattered, pain rocketing up his arms. The ghostly bystanders screamed and shied away from the falling glass. He hurtled towards the ground, just two storeys up. Action heroes survived such falls. He could too... right?

This was going to hurt...

Ryker shut his eyes, praying for the best.

Whump!

Landing on hard concrete was oddly like less painful than he had expected... and it was softer... fluffier... warmer.

"Wait a minute..."

Slowly, he opened his eyes... and found himself staring at a mass of corded muscle covered in thin, white fur.

"Huh?"

He was staring at a thick, muscled, white forearm with veins popping through the fur. A huge paw that could easily wrap around his face with ease with broad, black pawpads clutched his shoulder. Slowly, he followed the trial of those veins up to an _enormous_bicep, the mound alone as big and thick as a watermelon. Heat radiated from it like a white sun. The triceps supporting it were so well defined that it was actually possible to see all three muscle groups that gave it its name. There was barely a divide between the upper arm and shoulder with both hardened muscles pressing against one another that he could almost hear metal grinding as the slab of beef of the deltoids rubbed against those biceps. He followed the hard, defined lines up to where a ragged, pink scar about as wide as Ryker's arm abruptly cut through the white fur. Now curious, he followed the diagonal slash from where it began over the shoulder and across the broad pectoral, one that was big enough to outsize his chest and with a large, pink nipple hovering ever so close to his muzzle.

Blood immediately rushed to Ryker's cheeks and he let out a yelp of surprise. His flailing forced him to slip out of the big man's paws. He landed on his tail, forcing him to let out another yelp in surprise. But it also afforded him a clear view of his saviour.

The perfect specimen of a male was a polar bear. The left side of his torso was left bare but the right side was covered in what Ryker could only identify as a samurai's garb. A shitagi if he remembered correctly. It was jet black, contrasting with his white fur but with an icy blue trim that matched the bear's similarly icy-blue eyes. Where the long-sleeved tunic only covered his right side, Ryker could see that the left side was left ragged and torn, hanging from his waist like a torn half-cloak. A single pauldron in the style of a samurai was bound to the man's right shoulder, pinning the _shitagi_there.

The bear's immense torso tapered down towards a rigid set of abdominals that would have been absolutely perfect and put Greek Gods to shame had it not been for the ragged scar that cut through his left pectoral and sliced through the upper two rows. Still, it left the muscles there hardened with the faintest whisper of black hair visible due to the torn tunic sneaking up from the waistband of his pants - or h_akama_. Speaking of the hakama, the black trousers were bound by an ice-blue belt at his waist and fell down to his ankles, the flared bottoms just barely hiding his bare paws. The pleated nature of the trousers left a lot to the imagination of the strong legs beneath.

Ryker had to wonder if this guy was wearing the traditional fundoshi beneath those pants but he quickly shook himself out of such thoughts.

A pair of swords hung on the man's left hip, tied to his waist. One was longer than the other and both looked to be in the style of traditional Japanese swords. He could only guess that the shorter one was either a wakizashi or a tanto while the longer one was a katana though it seemed longer than that. Perhaps a nodachi or a zanbato. The shorter one was encased in a bright green scabbard with a golden edges while the longer was a deep - almost black - blue.

The bear lifted his right paw, reaching for the shorter sword. Only then did Ryker lift his gaze to meet the big bear's broad, square features. This masculine ursine had a neck so thick that it almost melded with his shoulders. His rigid, square jaw was decorated by a light dusting of black hair, curling around his jawline in a chinstrap beard that was only barely formed like he hadn't shaved in the past few days or so. Sharp blue eyes narrowed away from Ryker while the wind gently rustled the snow-white hair that rested a top his head, framed by coarser black hair around the sides and back.

"I take it you're the noob?" rumbled the man in a surprisingly youthful and tenor.

"Uh... I guess?" Ryker muttered. "And you are...?"

"Takoshi Kumareigi. I'm an IP."

He immediately scrambled to his feet only for the lingering booze on his body to cause him to slip and stumble onto his size. "Y - You're not going to try and 'take my Function', are you?"

Takoshi gave him one raise, black eyebrow. "The fuck are you talking about, boy? I'm a goddamn IP. I can't steal your Function. Only Hosts can do that."

He blinked a few times in surprise. "I'm... still a noob here. I thought IPs are bound to Hosts?"

The bear rolled his eyes. "Oh fuck me... You're one of those accidental activations, aren't you? Boy, why the fuck would you just press some unknown application that appeared on your goddamn phone?"

Ryker was getting quite fed up of being chastised over his decision to activate the application. "I was curious!"

"That's what killed the fucking cat!"

BOOM!

Both of them turned towards the mall as a huge waterfall of beer came rushing down from the second floor. They were in the middle of the road so neither of them were splashed. Oliver approached the edge of the shattered edge, the ghostly features of the bystanders seemingly oblivious of the rush of booze and just staring at the shattered window. Summer hovered over his shoulder, staring blankly forward. Ryker couldn't help but feel a pang of pity for the peahen.

"Looks like the cat is about the kill us," he began, backing away.

Takoshi was unperturbed, however, and just grinned, showing slightly blunted canines. "Heh, I _was_looking for my next meal."

In his panicked, overloaded mind, Ryker could only scream, "You're going to eat them!?"

"You are a fucking noob," sighed the ursine samurai. "Normally, IPs can't exist for long without a Host. IPs are basically ideas given form and sometimes, those fucking ideas just get forgotten. So IPs like me just end up wandering around the Overworld until we end up being forgotten entirely and die. Normally happens if the person that thought us up in the first place dies without every passing our concept on. But IPs can exist beyond that." His grin took on a malicious edge. "By eating other IPs."

"What!?"

"Or Dosers." Takoshi shrugged. "Same difference. It's how we survive out here, boy. Normally, if we eat a well-established IP, we can last for years without eating. Shrimps like this bitch..." His jerked his chin covered in a scraggly beard at peahen. "... probably won't last a few months."

"What about the Host?"

The burly, scarred samurai spat derisively at the ground, his wad of spit landing right between Ryker's feet. "I can kill him but that'd be pointless. Corpsmen like him will probably get with another IP that he'll just turn and turn into a Doser. Then I just hunt him right back down an eat that fucker up."

Ryker finally managed to find some footing. "But that's another IP. She's just _like_you! How can you eat your own kind!?"

"Boy, she's a fucking bird."

Suddenly, there was a loud whooshing noise and Ryker jerked his head back towards Oliver. A column of beer came rushing towards them, originating from Summer's jug. He mentally whined, 'Not again' before lifting his arms to brace himself. Takoshi suddenly moved, faster than his size would suggest. He drew the shorter of his two blades and a loud wailing like the howls of a thousand wolves raked across Ryker's ears. Roaring winds abruptly kicked up, slamming hard against the column of booze and spraying the beer in all directions instead of colliding with them.

"Is this your IP?" scoffed Oliver from where he stood. "Did you finally manifest him?"

Ryker glanced towards Takoshi. Even in his wildest dreams, he would never have imagined such a... thuggish character except perhaps as a villain. Not even a villain. An aimless wanderer that would often pester the main characters across their journey only to join up with the antagonist over some petty grudge with one of the side characters. Though he wasn't going to say that to the guy who had just saved him.

"Uh..."

"Just stay out of my way, boy," grunted Takoshi, pushing Ryker back behind him. "I don't need a noob like you getting in my way while I eat."

"Erm..."

Oliver scoffed and held out his paw towards the samurai. "Summer. Kill that fat bear!"

The peahen leapt up from where she was perched, hovering through the air majestically while rings of booze swirled around her in mesmerising patters. The rings spun with her as their axis, the amber liquid rushing faster and faster until -

Thwack!

One of them snapped outward and like a whip made of water, smacked right into Takoshi's chest. The bear grunted as he was pushed back a few steps, slamming into Ryker and forcing him back onto the ground.

"Stay out of my way!" barked the bear and he rushed forward, arching his curved sword for a slash.

Oliver propped one of his paws on his hips condescendingly. In the other paw, he lifted his own phone and angled it towards Takoshi. With his thumb, he pressed a button. "Pause."

Suddenly, Takoshi stopped in place, his body frozen in midstep.

"Corpsman bastard!" snarled the bear.

"One of the advantages of being a Corpsman," snickered the tabby. "Access to a large variety of Functions. Like this one... Summer!"

Another of those water whips lashed out and slammed hard against Takoshi's chest. Again, the bear was forced back, the Pause spell ending.

Then Oliver pressed another button on his phone. "Loop."

Ryker's chest tightened.

Before Takoshi could fully recover, his body froze again and again, Summer send a column of compressed, high-speed water against his chest.

Thwack!

Takoshi roared in agony, staggering back closer to Ryker. Then he froze and again -

Thwack!

... Summer attacked.

He was stuck in an infinite loop!

"This is probably the best day of my life," Oliver laughed, lifting his free paw. "Not only do I get to take down an Indie and take their Function, but I'll also get to bring in an IP! I bet we can make a nice Japanese-styled beer that'll go well with your image."

"Go fuck yourself, barb-cock!" roared the bear.

Thwack!

Ryker couldn't stand watching this. There had to be something he could do! His paws tightened around his phone...

... his phone.

He glanced at the device, heart pounding. What was it that Oliver did? What did he say his Function was?

Sirens flashed. The police were arriving but they couldn't help him in the Overworld. However, the lights that danced off the broken shards of glass around them were just enough that it allowed those very same dazzling lights to form a single word.

Break.

Ryker held out his phone flat on his paw and then slammed his finger against one of the boxes on the screen.

"Break!" he cried.

A sound like shattering glass erupted and Takoshi and Summer's forms suddenly showed cracks like they were made of porcelain. Like an outer layer shattered, fragments of crystal erupted from their bodies, dissipating into the air in a flurry of shimmering lights.

"What!?" exclaimed Oliver.

Takoshi collapsed to one knee, panting. "Heh... not bad, boy. Not bad at all."

"You're hurt!" Ryker exclaimed, rushing to the side of the samurai.

"I'll be fine," grunted the bear. He nodded towards Ryker. "Here's a quick tip. See those boxes on your phone? That's your RAM. Functions take a certain amount of RAM to execute. Usually one. Sometimes two. Every Host begins with two Functions. One that's unique to them and Exit. When it comes to battles like this, you've got to know when to fight and when to flee." He gently nudged Ryker. "Go on, boy. Use Exit. Get the fuck out of here."

"What?" the wolf exclaimed. "I'm not just going to leave you!"

"Don't be a fucking hero!" roared Takoshi. "You're a fucking noob! You don't know what this world is like! I do! I can take care of myself. Just give me a second to catch my breath and I'll be all over this bitch!"

Thwack!

Another whip of water slammed into Takoshi's shoulder, throwing him onto his back.

"Takoshi!" Ryker cried. He glanced towards Oliver who was now staring down at him maliciously. If what Takoshi said was true, then that would mean that Oliver would have used at least two of his RAM to execute the two Functions; Pause and Loop. Tactically speaking, that would mean that even if the tabby used Loop again, Ryker would have more uses of Break to cancel it out. But there was so much more about this battle and the Overworld that he didn't know about. Who knew what other tricks Oliver had?

"Just go, boy!" roared Takoshi, propping himself up on his paws. The booze that covered him suddenly caused him to lose traction and he collapsed onto his rear.

Thwack!

Another whip of beer struck the bear, forcing the big, white-furred samurai to curl up slightly.

"I'll get rid of the meddler first," Oliver hissed. "Then I'll get rid of you!"

Ryker grit his fangs together and immediately placed himself between Takoshi and Summer.

"Boy, you're being stupid!"

Thwack!

The hit from the hydrowhip hurt. A lot and it actually tore through his vest and shirt but it only pushed him back a single step.

"I've been screwed over by corporations too," he growled, his ears back and tail straightened. "They stole my idea and dared to send me a cease and desist order. My ideas, my IPs, could be dead because of them! I am not going to let some greedy Corpsman kill off another unique idea!"

Oliver scoffed. "Then you really are an Indie." He lifted his paw. "Summer!"

Thwack!

This time, Ryker didn't fall back a step even if the whip hurt like hell.

"Idiot!" snapped Takoshi. "You see that percentage on your fucking phone!? That's your health! If that drops to zero, you're dead! You die here, you die for real! Don't throw your life away for me! I'm -"

"Don't you fucking_dare tell me that you're just some idea!" Ryker shouted, turning to face the samurai. "You're an idea that was given shape and form. Someone spent a lot of time and effort to make you! Sure people can come up with concepts and designs like crazy. Maybe those with wild imaginations can create thousands well-developed characters and intricate worlds in a single minute but that's _still time and effort used to making you real! I am not going to let anyone's efforts get abused and turned into a brainless zombie because of some corporate stooge!"

Thwack!

He shut his eyes, tears of pain welling up.

"Get up, Takoshi," he snarled.

The bear stared at him in surprise. "You -"

Ryker bared his fangs, hackles rising. A fierce fire burned within his eyes, not metaphorically. There was a literal, silver flame that burst from deep within his pupils surging outward and engulfing him like a brilliant, steely corona. "I said, get up!"

The bear's features suddenly hardened. He glanced momentarily at his chest, just over his heart. Lips pursed, he placed a paw against left pectoral where a similar metallic flame burst, hovering between his fingertips. "Give me your phone."

Ryker didn't question and he immediately held out his phone.

Oliver went into a panic. This was something he had seen before. He had undergone the same ritual when Summer was first introduced to him. He made a swiping gesture through the air. "No! Summer! Stop them!" His Doser lurched forward but time seemed to slow as Takoshi placed his massive paw over Ryker's, the phone sitting in between them, pressing the silvery flame against the surface of the device.

"From inspiration, comes an idea," intoned the ursine samurai.

The words came to Ryker like he had known them his entire life. "From an idea, comes change."

Their fingers clasped around each other and he felt a warmth spring up from the contact, spreading through his entire body and leaving him with a tingling feeling throughout his entire body. His heart was racing hard in his chest and echoing in his eardrums. It took him a moment to realise that the slower, more methodical echo was not his heartbeat but that of Takoshi's. He could hear the heartbeat of the bear.

"Let's change the world..." he began, a smile spreading across his face.

Takoshi mirrored the smile with his own bright grin.

"... together!" they exclaimed in unison.

A burst of silver light erupted from his phone, sweeping all over them and washing over the area. Summer was pushed back by an incredible gale of force and even Oliver was forced to his knees with the eruption. This was the spark of inspiration birthing a new idea and that idea setting light to an inferno. Even if his videogame was going to be killed by Triple-A Developer, Ryker was going to fight not for himself but for all the other ideas that would be squashed in a similar manner out there. This was his conviction and his inspiration.

And now, he had an IP to do it with.

The silver flame faded and Ryker opened his eyes, eyes he had never realised he had closed.

He stood beside Takoshi, both of them facing Oliver and Summer. A newfound strength coursed through his body.

"I feel... stronger," he murmured, lifting a paw and closing it into a fist.

"That's the thing about Independents compared to Corpsmen like this asshole," said Takoshi with a grin. "Dosers draw their power from all the people that they have manipulated but even that idea is fleeting. But an IP and a Host are different. They draw strength from one another." Without taking his eyes off Oliver, he pointed at Ryker's phone. "You'll see a few more options there now, boy."

His 'health' was now at 56% and he just knew it was because he was sharing a pool with Takoshi. Right beneath it was a bar, currently full. The word 'synch rate' was flashing right beside it.

"Refresh me," rumbled Takoshi.

Without even having to ask for instruction, Ryker pressed one of his RAM cards. "Refresh!" he announced.

A soothing green light emanated from his phone, bathing them both. His health meter sprang all the way back up to 100%, the wounds he had suffered from Summer immediately healing and even Takoshi's bruises fading.

"Now we're talking," grinned the samurai as he lifted his blade once more. "Say your fucking prayers, Corpsman!"

The winds howled around them, bands of compressed wind becoming visible and whirling around the blade of his sword.

"Summer!" Oliver shouted, pointing at them.

Ryker made a slashing motion with his own phone. "Break!"

Summer's form shattered one more time and this time, she let out a startled cry as all the rings of booze around her crumbled into crystal shards around her.

"That's my boy!" roared Takoshi. "Now eat this, you fucking corporate sellout!"

The samurai swung he swirling blade upwards. The winds roared and launched themselves at the Corpsman and his Doser. The glass shards from the shattered window were swept up with the burst. The ethereal bystanders screamed, trying to avoid the seemingly possessed shards eve as entire cars were overturned by some unknown force. A pillar of compressed wind, a titanic tornado, launched from Takoshi's swing, surging forward and biting deep into the asphalt with enough force to create a deep cut in the ground. Oliver screamed, holding up a paw in defence even as the high-speed wind race towards him, slicing through the metal and tiles of the mall. His form suddenly vanished in a burst of silver flames and with him, Summer.

"Did... did you just kill him!?" Ryker exclaimed.

Unbeknownst to him, the synch bar on his phone dropped.

Takoshi sheathed his blade. "Naw. He hit Exit before I could." He grinned, offering a thumbs up at Ryker. "Well, looks like we're IP and Host now, boy."

Ryker puffed out his cheek in defiance. "My name is Ryker. Ryker Wall. Not 'boy'. Not 'kid'. Ryker."

"Sure thing, boy." Takoshi grinned at him tauntingly. "Been a while since I've been bonded to a Host. I wonder how much the world has changed."

"What do you -?"

Before Ryker could finish that thought, a wave of dizziness and weariness suddenly washed over him. Whether it was the effects of Summer's booze or his own exhaustion, he fell to his knees, suddenly unable to think and his vision blurring.

"Boy!" Takoshi cried, grabbing his shoulders to keep him from fully toppling over. Hey boy!"

His vision darkened into blackness.

"Ryker!"

******

Ryker's eyes snapped open and with a cry, he sprang up from his bed.

He was alone in his bedroom. Alone, as he had always been, on the massive king-sized bed in the middle of the master bedroom of his two-bedroom apartment that he shared with Cliff. There was his desk sitting at the far corner, screen asleep but tower still quietly humming and emitting a blue light. There was the door to his en suite, firmly closed because he hated the idea of leaving it open when he went to bed. And there was the door to his walk-in closet to the right of his bed. The door leading into the lounge room sat firmly closed as well in the direction of his feet. Light spewed through the drawn curtained behind his headboard, announcing that the sun had long risen and he had slept in.

"What a dream..." he mumbled, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms. He stretched, yawning and curling his long, flat, canine tongue in the process.

A quick glance at his phone sitting on his bedside table and he noticed that it was already ten-thirty in the morning.

"Damn. I really slept in," he mumbled, swinging his legs to the right of his bed. He was still dressed in the same outfit that he had worn the previous night when he went to _High-Fen_with Cliff. There was even a deep slash that cut through both his vest and shirt from when Summer...

His eyes widened, ears perked as he ran his fingers down the cut.

"Was it a dream...?"

BOOM!

Suddenly, the doors to his walk-in closet burst open and out came a huge polar bear, naked save for a pair of red underwear that looked about to erupt as it was compressed by his massive, muscular thighs and that obscene bulge.

"Oh hey!" Takoshi boomed. "You're awake!" He tugged at the rim of his underwear. "Do you have anything bigger than this? It might have been a while since I've been on this side but this might be a little fucking revealing."

"What the hell!?" Ryker cried, flinching back. "Y - Y - You're real!?"

Takoshi stared at him in confusion. "Of course I'm fucking real." Then he seemed to realise what Ryker was saying and laughed softly. "Oh right. You don't know." He leaned down, grinning broadly with his eyes shut in mirth. "When an IP becomes bonded to a Host, we enter the Realworld! We share some of your physical strength to materialise in this world! Our powers are limited, of course. Kind of why my clothes and swords didn't materialise with me. Was kind of awkward carrying you naked through the streets to get back here but people stopped staring after a while."

Ryker's mind reeled in horror. "You did what!?"

"Hey! I wasn't going to just let you lie there, you know. Good thing your student card had your address printed on it." Takoshi glanced at the sole garment he was wearing. "So really, got anything bigger that these boxers?"

Ryker recognised that underwear. "Those are my favourite shorts!"

"Huh... Could've fooled me."

Suddenly, the door to his room sprang open and Cliff poked his head in. "Ryker? You okay? I heard..." The tiger paused a moment and blinked in surprise as he took in Takoshi. "Oh... uh... Hey bro. You the dude that Ryker went home with last night?"

Ryker's cheeks immediately burned bright red in embarrassment. "He is not! He ... he's..."

How could he explain all the insanity that happened the previous night? His tongue tumbled in his muzzle and what came out was an unintelligible mess.

"Yeah," Takoshi said, a devilish grin on his muzzle. "I swept him right off his feet."

"No! He did not!" Ryker protested. "He just... we just... ah..."

Cliff grinned knowingly and began to close the door. "Don't worry, bro. I won't tell."

"He's not my boyfriend!" Ryker cried.

"Then why is he wearing your favourite shorts?"

And with that, Cliff shut the door.

Ryker felt defeated and deflated, staring at the door with his jaw and arms slack. Takoshi placed one paw on his head, ruffling his hair lightly.

"I have a feeling," rumbled the bear enthusiastically, "that this is going to be fun."