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Brother Swapping

Gnawed by remorses, Inspector Meero Scalebane shall infiltrate a prison to stop the Templars and extract their secrets

_The screen flashed, shifting from typical stock market information to a completely different scene. A young child was smiling at the camera, her cries and laughter muted on the screen.

The young Rat wore a pink robe and a white coat, her black eyes almost as cute as she boggled, admiring the Minstrel Canal cutting through the sleek city center.

Whoever held the camera waved back at the small child while she ran along the railing before the camera panned up, going from the trees composing the park they were in to…

To the Vexal Ziggurat._

_The structure of steel and concrete cast a long shadow over the city, like a monument to someone’s ego. Still, it wasn’t entirely ugly. Each stage, each floor, was a terrace onto which exotic and recently restored plant species grew and thrived.

The Ziggurat was wide, three districts-wide due to its needs, and tall enough to overshadow the old skyscrapers on the other side of the canal. It was to house all the employees of Vexal Pharmaceutical and its subsidiaries.

A glory to one company._

_And as the camera panned onto it, smoke was coming from the top.

Then more from the sides, from everywhere. Then there were the fires coming from each side of the Ziggurat. The camera returned to the small child, who cried and pointed fingers. Not at the Ziggurat, but at the trees that were shaking. The ground was shaking._

_The cameraman. Or the camerawoman appeared on the video for a moment as she grabbed her child and lifted her off. Still, the camera often returned to the Ziggurat. The fire grew, engulfing everything, while the structure itself shuddered. And then, the west side collapsed upon itself. An entire pyramid had one corner collapsing… And so followed the tip, the flames devouring everything that was.

Followed then a black cloud of smoke, rising from where the Ziggurat had been.

It was dark like night, heavy, carrying and crushing the park underneath it. Then… The video cut._

_Another video appeared.

This time, it was a rescuer's internal camera. Most of the biological data had been blurred. However, some appeared much like the hellish temperatures when that worker entered the ruins of the Ziggurat.

The smoke was still around, though the wave of death from the collapse was gone already. Remained then the fire, the infernos, and the cries. So distant, so numerous.

A few meters in, and the guy already had to face a few corpses whose bodies had been crushed; and blurred for censorship.

There were cries, sounds of retching, and then more. It continued, while the poor guy advanced into what had been the grand halls that had collapsed under the Ziggurat’s weight. It was like walking into an anthill, one flaming and destroyed anthill._

_Again, another video.

This time, it was a long line of people forced to wait their turn for a bowl of chow. Disheveled, they all looked like they came from different backgrounds. Children, corporates still in their ripped suits, blue-collar workers with wrapped limbs. Many bore that expression of utter abandon, like lifeless husks forced to advance, one turn after another. On the side, a few were eating or entering the emergency tents that had been installed a few districts from the catastrophe._

_Again… Another video.

A camp recently installed and people sleeping on emergency couches with almost nothing to cover themselves, shuddering.

Another.

A hospital overwhelmed with screaming people trying to get helped. Crushed limbs or failing organs. Suffering of all sorts.

Another.

An adult relentlessly digging through the rubble, shouting for a ‘Marthia’, who had to be a corpse buried under the concrete._

_Another.

This time, it was different. Clean, appropriately framed. Blue curtains behind a desk. And someone holding a nondescript pad, surrounded by fellows. That person’s identity could not be read by any biometric data. Their masks, fashioned like a Templar helmet, hid their expressions. The voice, made indistinct, spoke.

“Vexal Pharmaceuticals has been deemed unworthy. The Templars’ wrath speaks for the people they have killed through their lack of ethics. This is but a drop of blood compared to the sea of blood this company has spilled.”

The camera zoomed out, presenting another symbol on the curtain, in gold: a Templar’s helmet with a sword descending behind it.

“For months, we have been sending warnings to the leadership that this attack would happen if they refused to give in to our demands, this-“_

“Do you remember the time when a helmet was like an innocent symbol of the Crusades? You know. When I played Empire of Ages, that was my favorite faction.”

“It is easy to use the helmet. Everyone wears similar tattoos. It’s hard to track them with it.”

“Fair. Plus, you can’t ban people from having that tattoo. That’s rough, though.”

“Every time, I tell myself it can’t get worse. It’s hard. So many lives ruined by cunts.”

“By cunts we will track, since we’re good dogs. You look like crap, by the way.”

Meero stood in front of the large screen installed in the umpteenth conference hall. The sleek and polished board floor, the all-specter lights, the potted greens placed here and there, the large fake-windows displaying a lush forest… It was corporate at its best, for corporates.

Yet, it had the best coffee machine in Meero’s eyes.

He leaned against the table. Watching the news used to be a grounding habit for him.

In comparison, Sanra, his orange Vixen friend, was already on her tablet, fiddling with the load of data she had to skim through. Or had been skimming through for the last hour.

“More like the entire department is about to burst into flames because of them,” she huffed, pulling the glasses that hid the bags under her blue eyes. Sure enough, she looked tired, like she’d been put through the wringer.

Something that also told Meero she should fix her lymphatic support system if it allowed her to look so… Gaunt.

“What?”

“What’s your next time since you talked with your Med-tech?”

“Are you serious about talking implants with me? At that moment?” asked Sanra, snarling.

In return, Meero turned and twisted his torso. The broad-shouldered and grinning Dragon leaned forward, pointing his index finger and his coffee cup towards her.

“You look like shit. Your lymphatic system is begging for mercy. You should upgrade.”

“And you should upgrade your blabbermouth,” answered Sanra, her done nails clicking against the tablet. “Your charms and your augments are not the solution to everything.”

“Oh, but they are,” answered Meero, putting down his cup to flex.

He lifted his arms, doing a back double biceps. Biceps that pushed against his synthtex bodysuit and the formal suit above. Then he moved to the abdomen and thighs, placing his hands behind his head and tensing his abdominal muscles. Then, side chest by holding onto his flexed right arm.

Each time, he did a little ‘ouh’ or ‘ah’ that was exaggerated and made Sanra laugh for a moment while Meero grinned from ear to ear.

“Look at this! My augmented muscles can fix your shitty mood!” laughed Meero, taking another pose, half-kneeling while having his fist close to his mouth.

“If nothing else, there’s no way to fix your brain, my poor Meero,” answered Sanra, passing her nails on her lips while she clearly enjoyed the view. “What will we do about you?”

“Do about me? Ask me to kill terrorists and crush their organization like the good citizen I am,” answered Meero, standing up and saluting, his heels touching.

To this, Sanra answered by clicking her tongue and shaking her head, though eyeing the bodysuit tight on Meero’s body, digging into his augmented muscles… Before she closed her eyes and brought up her tablet.

“About that, golden boy, we’ll get a new task.”

“What is it this time?” he asked before Sanra pointed her thumb at the TV screen. “Truth?”

“Truth,” she answered with a sigh, passing a finger on her temple while she wrapped her other arm around her belly, reclining back. “With their attack on Isauis and Vexal, the AAA are taking this seriously. They see the Templars as a future problem.”

“Which meaaans…” replied Meero, smiling.

“It’s up to Interpol to clean up that mess. Mazel tov, Meero. You’re on a fresh case!”

The feigned happiness was all there, but Meero smiled and winked at Sanra.

“Finally. Something bigger than crushing A companies or examining data! So… Where do we start?”

A sole answer; Sanra placed her tablet on the table and slid it to Meero. One name: Horizon Expenditure. The first lead was that they’d been delivering many cargoes during the terrorist attack, putting them at the center of the investigation.

-

**System Check: 3 AM. 24 February. Zaratos, Esochia. Faint drizzle. 3°C

Health Check: Sleep cycle terminated. Recovery complete. Stress level adequate.**

The constant clicking and beeping were not that loud; however, in a clean, dark, and sleeping apartment, they were. As much as the old monitors, from before the smart-screen era, were blinding.

They cast a blue light over everything: the desk, the unmistakable shape that was Meero’s body. And then… The shelves were covered with medals, books, ledgers from old cases, photos of celebrations, and empty bottles. Further ahead, paintings of Meero himself had been hung, giving off a very narcissistic vibe.

Then there was the afar bed, with the sheets moving, and finally a scaly green leg stretching outside the sheets. A grumble, a moan. Slow steps around. Someone left the room for a few minutes, then entered it again, and… Meero found himself with a steamy green arm wrapped around his chest, and a draconic muzzle much like his own kissing his cheeks.

“Babe. It’s 3 am,” moaned the gruff voice by his ear-hole, kissing him again.

“I know. But I am fine,” answered Meero, smiling. No, he was fine.

After three hours of sleep, his metabolism had recovered, flushing out all traces of exhaustion and drain after a day spent walking through many layers of bureaucratic investigation.

Horizon Expenditure was a national company. An A company, compared to the AA that were international, or the AAA that were intercontinental. There were talks about creating the AAAA category for those whose influence stretched to Luna or Asterius’ colonies.

Lots of companies want to grow beyond their home planet.

Back on solid ground, the little national company was… Riddled with corruption. Fucked-up ledgers, embezzling here and there, many illegal contracts, and more disregarded regulations.

The problem was that kind of shit was the run-of-the-mill cases for the local government. Not for Interpol and its terrorist cases. It was fun and dandy to put a nasty manager behind bars; it was something else to find a lead on the most tragic disaster that hit Esochia or its capital, Zaratos, in the last two years.

In a way, it was even through sheer luck that nobody Meero knew lived in the vicinity of the Ziggurat. His apartment, though, had been at the edge of the destruction zone.

So… Now, it was his duty to parse through data. They squeezed out a name, Wilson Smith. A fake identity, though it was somehow impossible to track down the individual.

He had disappeared on the day of the terrorist attack, but Meero was poring through the camera recordings and trying to find where that bastard could have been meeting with his crew or how he had loaded all those explosives.

“Babe…” huffed the voice, visibly irate. “I’m not like you. I’m a natural.”

“Yeah,” sighed Meero, stroking the scaly arm. No traces of metal, nanotech, or implants. It was plain flesh and scales, providing greater contrast against Meero himself. Though he was a Dragon, one kind with the highest chances of rejection, his body looked… Improved.

Sleek blue titanium implants ran along his cheekbones, glimmering in the blue light. His eyes, artificially improved, had little metal inlays above his eyelids, locating the visual coprocessor.

The same was true for his sizable horns, which had been drilled so that more cooling systems had been installed within; small, scalelike vents that opened when overworked.

His fingers, hands, arms. Even his legs, in comparison, looked completely natural. But a mere examination along the joints could tell the presence of artificial articulations. The lack of a pulse showed that, too. The augments extended up to his uncovered shoulders and collarbone, revealing the metal inlays of the junction ports. Once connected, it was hard to tell whether the inlays were part of an augment or ornaments.

They extended over his collarbone, along his spine, and then along his chest. Definitely impressive chest, stroked by the green fingers running down between the pecs, between the laced and reinforced muscles, down to the abdominal waist.

“I can’t stay up late like you,” mumbled Ervon. Meero’s boyfriend. Last of a long line.

“Yes, because you’re a natural,” answered Meero, kissing Ervon’s neck as he guided him back in bed. The computer screen turned off, plunging the room into darkness.

Yet, Meero saw the room as clear as in daylight while he ran his hand along Ervon’s chest, over those natural muscles his fingers explored, each detail sent back to his brain faster than any natural nervous system could.

“And because you love your twelve hours of sleep.”

“I’m narcoleptic,” huffed Ervon, though he pushed against Meero’s kissing and then craned his neck, aiming for where Meero's face ought to be.

A kiss. Gentle and soft while Ervon’s hands explored Meero’s body, his pectorals, his abdominal muscles. And down… Down to the groin, that certainly had inlays in it.

“And you’re about to check out my dick?” asked Meero, smiling though, as he reclined, he allowed Ervon to continue exploring while his own hand went to Ervon, between his legs… And yes, right to the genitals.

“Because it’s better than hearing you talk about how I should get my first implant.”

“It’s painless, I promise,” answered Meero, grinning while reaching for another kiss.

“You Steel addict.”

“You dick addict.”

**System reallocation: Reproductive Organs.

Module activation: Nervous feedback

Module activation: X-tra Tail 3 500**

Meero laughed when the hand reached between his legs and found… Well, his pride.

Though it was something of pure delight… And half-hard.

The titanium inlays were forming a ‘crown’ above his cock, decorating the pubes… And attracting the eyes to that metal, softer and pliable, following the cock’s course. The foreskin, partially natural, had been riddled with improved sensors that could be slightly felt as tiny nodes along the veins. And then, when the foreskin was stretched and peeled back, the cock was in full display… The cocktip proper and pointing forward, with a piercing at the tip.

His frenum was artificial, synthflesh. The corona also had hints of synthflesh that were to act as protection for the ‘accidents’, much like the proto-muscle fibers inside the shaft. An improved mix of flesh and metal that reached beyond the 9 inches. One monster that oozed a whitish and sticky precum onto Ervon’s fingers, releasing its sweet aroma that was musky but not excessively so. No, it was even aromatic, thanks to the improved sweat glands.

The same sweat glands that were over his scrotum, over the massive scrotum whose testicles seemed to throb and grow by the second, while pressing between Meero’s legs.

For the moment, they looked like two small apples, but they were growing fast, the skin stretching but without looking taut.

“Well. It’s not like you’ve improved your junk to make it more pleasant,” mumbled Ervon, kissing Meero and then going on all fours above Meero.

“Jealous?”

“A bit. That might work better than asking me to get rid of my narcolepsy.”

“Sleeping better is less important than a dick.”

“I can’t show off a better sleep pattern with a tight Speedo.”

Meero laughed, remembering how he had met Ervon at the gym. It wasn’t a normal evening event, nor at a normal gym. But it’d been a good evening with Meero showing off his augments while lifting weights and squatting. He did not get the best scores, since some people were clearly addicted to augments. But for someone who’d grown scrawny and weak in his youth, Meero felt good in his body.

So much as his cock throbbed and bounced. The pulse was artificial, the ‘blood’ coming from a pouch inside his groin… But the sensations were real when Meero had Ervon straightening his back, showing his own erection. Only two-thirds of Meero’s length, but Ervon was a natural. And hung at that.

Less than Meero, as the blue Dragon’s cock was hard and rigid, the purplish skin almost begging for attention when Ervon lifted his thighs and… Presented his orifice.

“Wait… Are you clean?”

“I am, moron,” grumbled Ervon, descending… And impaling himself.

His hole was sleek, lubricated, and firm. And yet open for penetration.

Ervon’s hole was stretchy, trained. And with enough lubrication, Meero was moaning while feeling his boyfriend’s asshole closing on his cock, sucking on it.

Sure, the part after was not as tight or keen on squeezing his shaft, but Meero could focus his nervous feedback on the squeezed base. It would make it divine… It would make it like that asshole, unique, was squeezing all over his dick at once.

And… The blue Dragon’s tail wagged, smacking against the bed.

“Humph? Is that how you plan to make me sleep?” asked Meero, grinning while feeling his Boyfriend’s fingers running along his pecs, giving them a firm squeeze while he lifted his posterior, his glutes, pulling up… And squeezing the length down up.

Ervon groaned, his head was low… But he finally huffed when his ass was lifted… And he had Meero’s hands on his posterior, squeezing that natural ass.

“No… Just fuck me ‘til I pass out.”

“Permission to end in you after?”

“Permission granted,” said Ervon, straightening his back and… Moaning as Meero impaled him on his cock.

The blue Dragon’s tail pressed against Ervon’s back, the reinforced muscles and the secondary control allowed Meero to support Ervon while lifting his ass. No, more than that, his tail slightly extended in length while it seemed to flatten, forming a surface Ervon could use to recline on while Meero… Took hold.

Hold of that ass, of that delicious posterior he lifted and impaled on his dick, leaving little for Ervon to do nothing except enjoy the strength and the fucking.

“Hmph… Bloat me, too,” said Ervon, smiling.

“I’ll plug you up, then,” said Meero.

It wouldn’t be the first time he’d ruined that bed. There were no towels around to endure the shots. Meero didn’t want the whole cumshot to seep into the mattress, again.

So he squeezed his eyes shut, feeling his testicles while making a slight call.

**Module activation: Testicular Lacing 3000

Instruction: Cum plug**

The second after, a warmth grew inside his testicles. Having everything down there made it pleasant, thanks to the sensation of bloating from the little factories working at full capacity to produce more cum. Cum that would be altered by the nanomachines in the lacing and completed by a few artificial glands inside.

He smiled, feeling the pleasant sensation run through his spine and upward while he continued to push and lift, impaling his boyfriend, whose eyes were already closing slightly and whose cock was hard like steel.

Perhaps he was narcoleptic, but Ervon’s libido endured. His cock was stiff and throbbing, dripping all over Meero’s belly, covering the blue scales with that sticky precum. Yet, that precum vanished, absorbed by the synthscales while Meero smiled, feeling the need to pump harder… And harder.

His cock was burning, in heat. His groin was on fire. And yet, even if Ervon was acting more sluggish despite his heightened sensations, Meero was grinning from ear to ear.

He was enjoying himself, enjoying that clean and prepared hole, enjoying that hunk that was part of his life and allowed him to fuck that ass even in the middle of the night. And so… He fucked, humped.

Underneath, the wood creaked, and the entire room was filled with Ervon’s moans and the grunts from Meero.

And the little wheezes from Meero’s cooling system.

His hips bounced, driven by a movement that was akin to jolts, yet entirely controlled, and repeated. Something pretty hard for someone with natural muscles. Something easy when he could merely tense his muscles at once and… Jolt. The inertia was enough to smack, hit… And then make Ervon’s cock erupt into an ejaculation. The Dragon moaned, smiled, and was about to slur something before his eyes closed.

His muscles relaxed, his asshole was tighter around the orifice… And like that, the instructor was limp and leaning on Meero’s tail. Meero, who wasn’t done when he grabbed his lover by the arms, stopped his thrusts for a moment. His tail shifted, no longer supporting Ervon but wrapping around his chest. It had grown in length but reduced in width, allowing it to wrap around the green Dragon and direct his fall to have him lying on the bed before he made Ervon turn away.

That way, Meero had full access to Ervon's posterior, to that plump ass that was delicious and tempting. And surely tense when he took Ervon as the little spoon.

He even reached and lifted one leg to spread those glutes while his tail stretched and locked on the floor, serving as an anchor so Meero could push, thrust, hit, and smack.

The hole remained tight… Quite so.

The sensation was exquisite and replicated all over Meero’s cock, making it burn with pleasure while his testicles, grown to the size of apples, were smacking their thighs.

His groin was warm, and for a moment, Meero thought about continuing, about fucking his boyfriend all night. He could do that; it was pleasant and certainly had become one of Ervon’s kinks, much to his shameful desires.

However… However, there was the mission and the investigation. It was silly to focus on it, but Ervon… Ervon was asleep, so he wouldn’t notice as Meero closed his eyes.

**Instruction: Increase penis sensitivity to 95%

Danger: Do you want to increase the sensitivity beyond 50%

> Yes**

Instead of merely replicating the sensation of the rim holding onto his cock, Meero cranked it up. To the edge, to the limit of his system.

Beyond 100%, it was akin to getting his brain fried. Many had gone crazy in doing so, becoming sex-addicts, always pushing for more mods. More changes. Meero? He wasn’t crazy.

And 95% was already crazy good.

**Alert: Coprocessing systems overheating

System compensation activated**

The moment the rim squeezed his cock, it was like his whole nervous system was overwhelmed. His feedback system froze for a second while the sensation struck Meero’s brain. His lips curled in a grin, his eyelids fluttered, his tail quivered, while his muscles, from the tail to the nape, tensed. His arms remained at work, holding Ervon’s leg up.

His legs had stopped while he had his cock firmly lodged inside that hole, getting squeezed and fully… Embraced by the sensation, by the squeeze, by the warmth, by the velvety hole.

Alert: System flush in 10 seconds

Even then, Meero smiled stupidly.

The wheeze from his horns grew, with the ventilation opening fully. While he ejaculated, his groin clenched in an almost natural way. Yet, his testicles were squeezed by the lacing.

It was more than his testes, but the sensation felt the same when his scrotum tensed around his testicles. That flow of cum, of pure semen, rushed up his tubes, hit his prostate like a sounding rod… And then, the powerful jet ran along his cock to hit Ervon’s inside.

In one second, he ejaculated inside Ervon.

In two seconds, his testicles again clenched while another jet was pumped inside Ervon.

In three seconds, Meero’s grin turned frantic while his coprocessing system froze.

In four, Ervon’s belly, bulging from Meero’s cock, was starting to soften.

In five, Meero’s testicles were squeezed again, the modified shot rushing up his cock.

In six, Ervon’s belly was swelling, going rounder while he remained asleep.

In seven, Meero’s eyelids closed, and his lips fell.

In eight, his testicles finally relaxed and dropped between his legs, returning to the size of apples.

In nine… His arms dropped and relaxed.

In ten… Meero’s system flushed all that orgasm down.

System flush. Cleaning scrambled data. Cleaning up sensors cache.

All the junk data, all the sensations that had overwhelmed him, sent him spiraling into pleasure. It vanished. Even his cock went limp as the pump in his groin no longer sent fake blood inside. And so, cum oozed out.

Or so it would, before the contact with air made it harden and change shape. It would form a nice plug that would be washed down with water. But one that would keep Ervon swollen and dandy as he was still sleeping on his side, not even snoring after that.

Meero? He sighed.

After that system flush, he was almost ready for another fuck. He could get going again, going for another fuck and counting on the system flush to deal with the refractory period. Alas, he sighed and stretched. His cock, once out, had been covered with cum. However, the liquid had been absorbed by his synth-skin, much like the fluids that had dribbled onto his belly.

But as he looked at Ervon’s bedside, he saw the cumshots going from his groin to the bed’s edge and beyond. Three neat shots that were a hair short of hitting the wall. And the Dragon smiled, straightening up.

Somehow, he was even feeling refreshed as he approached his computer, pressed the power button with his big toe before he sat down, returning to his archives and ledgers he’d been poring through. There was to be some information about it. About the Templars’ whereabouts.

“_Congrats, champ. That’s not every day someone cracks such a case so easily.”

Meero grimaced, feeling a weight in his guts. Sure, it’d been easy to track everything down. The logistics had pointed to that warehouse, and through Sanra’s help, they’d secured one freight truck to plan an ambush._

_However, as Meero looked at that familiar orange Dragon, pushed in a squad car, he could only feel regret.

“What will happen to them?”

“They’ll be put on trial on terrorism charges and some shit. It’s been days since we tracked them, and… You did it, champ. Perhaps we should bring you back on the force.”

“No. I’m fine as it is.”

“Are you refusing a promotion?”

“Nah. I know I’m not cut out for this, not at the moment. Do you think I can have a word with them?”_

_A shaken head and a grumble.

“Let it go. It’s not your fault. You told us you tried to help him. Just let it go.”

Hands scratching, a frown. A sigh.

“You’re right.”_

-

“Thanks for getting me here, babe.”

“Anything for you,” answered Ervon, though he accepted the kiss from Meero, accepting that slightly modified tongue to dance with his… And for their saliva to be exchanged. Ervon’s was salty. Meero’s tasted like a sweet cocktail at that moment.

A flavor Ervon slurped down when Meero broke the kiss and straightened up instead of kissing his boyfriend through the window.

“See you later.”

“Erhhh,” answered Meero, raising his index finger while grimacing. And swallowing his own saliva.

“Next time?”

“Yeah. You know how our investigations are like. Plus, I might have found something.”

“Instead of sleeping with me? Or fucking me all night?”

“You were asleep.”

“But not sore,” answered Ervon with a chuckle, patting his belly, which looked bloated. That crazy boyfriend was still full of cum and showing it while driving his car.

“Fine. Next time, I promise to fuck you all night until you are so sore that you cannot move. Then you’ll beg me to stop, but I’ll keep fucking you until you pass out. I’ll have you stuffed like a turkey and held in a harness so I can take you over the table, and-“

“AHEM!”

Meero had been leaning through the window again, pouring out all the dirty thoughts he had about Ervon and what he could do to him. However, the moment he heard that clearing throat, he narrowly hit the top of the car with his horns. He stepped back, bent his body, and looked at his left… At Sanra, holding out an umbrella to fend off the drizzle.

Of course, Meero smiled nervously, leaning against the car door, only for Ervon to crane his neck and wave at Sanra.

“Sorry!” said Ervon.

“We were… Talking about… Something,” said Meero, showing his clean, white teeth.

“Yes. After an innocent make-out session while I’m stuck holding the umbrella,” sighed Sanra, rolling her eyes and shaking said umbrella.

“We’ll catch up next time. I’ll send you a message when I’m back,” whispered Meero, winking.

“And you promise to fuck me as hard as you can?”

“AHEM!”

“Promise!”

With that, Meero sauntered to join Sanra under the umbrella, then picked up so she could fiddle with her tablet.

“You know I am not against watching you two beefcakes making out. But stuffing him like a turkey?”

“That’s something between us,” replied Meero with a slight whistle as they climbed the steps to the local office. A stout building and all of concrete, though most of the structure was below ground. Security, or merely because someone had a hard-on for bunkers?

The entrance was typical, with a guard checking their IDs. Then, once inside, everything was to be scanned.

Of course, Meero had to pass through the secondary scanners for augments, watching the machine’s arms go all around him with flashy lights before he got green-lighted.

The same was done for Sanra, though it was shorter. Then, she handed him the tablet she received post-integrity scan.

“I found a second lead,” she said as the name appeared.

It was a folder filled with all sorts of IDs, though all shared the same face, a Jaguar, with different names and origins.

“Who’s that?” asked Meero, peering through the information, only to find more data.

“Who? Well, we don’t know. He’s a data stealer. I think he’s been falsifying IDs for a while.”

“Fancy. Though he got the Federal States, the whole Union… Wait, even the Southern Dan?”

Meero looked at Sanra, who bit her lower lip, sucking it in, while nodding comically.

“Whoever it is, he got the long arm. What about you?”

“I’ve spent the night looking for our Wilson Smith. He had no access to the trucks or the Ziggurat. It was a red herring.”

“Or he was placed here to grant someone else’s access. Was he often in contact with someone?”

“Squeaky clean up to two years ago, then… Never existed.”

“Crap. They were playing the long game.”

“They have the means to waste someone on such a long mission,” huffed Meero, puffing up his chest and tapping with his loofah while waiting for the elevator to arrive.

“I think Hona is on the local mafia. You could help her. Maybe they are in contact with our data stealer?”

“Nah,” observed Meero, hearing the ding and heading headfirst inside the elevator, followed by Sanra. For once, they were almost alone. Though if he had started one hour earlier like Sanra, that elevator would have been full.

“You won’t help her?”

“Nah, that’s something stupid. I’m pretty sure her targets were at the Ziggurat one day or another for medical interventions. We need a connection, not… Guesses,” mumbled Meero, crossing his arms. “If we had access to the AAA data. Or even Vexal Security logs.”

“They’ll clean them up.”

“Yeah, and toss out anything illegal. To throw out the baby with the bathwater.”

Sanra snickered, but she returned to her stoic self, asking for the tablet back as they reached level -6.

When the doors opened, the smell of cheap coffee, sweat, stress, and anger welcomed them. Same with old cigarettes, though none had dared to smoke in the office in the last six years.

The soft, dark carpet remained unchanged, as did the vast open space that dated back to the former corporate era.

Cubicles had been added back, but it wasn’t the same. And though it was mainly silent, you could hear something typing from a nearby desk.

Meero and Sanra strolled in before someone flagged them.

Ern. The small Stout was on his computer, handling a whole different case. Something about illegal slave rings for one of the few nations that still relied on Interpol to handle those cases. And not on the AAA security companies.

“What’s this, Ern?” asked Meero, approaching and leaning against the cubicle wall.

“We received a message from the Templars. A mail was sent to the entire service while you were out,” said Ern, his round glasses fixed on Sanra. “Director Joss wants to see Meero.”

“Me?”

“Dunno why, but he’s been on our ass. He said that was important.”

“Fine,” sighed Meero, his arm dropping. “Sanra. Good luck with your ID snatcher, I’ll see the beast.”

“Don’t let him eat you, ‘Babe, ’” answered Sanra with a snicker before she turned to Ern, starting a boring conversation about IDs. Sanra was not the expert on this, but Ern was. He had the talent.

Meero beelined to the Director’s office. On the way, many flagged him and pointed to the director’s office. He answered with nods and his chin raised in the same direction.

Everyone knew about this, and the more people eyed him, the more it felt like he’d been caught in a fire.

Yet, he approached the plain wood door, braced himself, knocked, and entered.

Alert: Stress level beyond healthy standards

“Ah! Inspector Meero, Duty before Blood!”

“Sir?”

Meero blinked, watching the director Joss sitting at his desk. The dark green-skinned Frog had the face of a man who’d known Esochia before the unification. Old, wrinkled, with scutes above his mouth. He was not the type Meero enjoyed talking with. But the moment Meero saw the second figure, his blood pressure skyrocketed.

“Close the door behind you, Meero. I present to you the Director of the Transnational Crime Office, Director Keshan Smith,” said the Frog, raising his hand but not his ass from his chair.

In return, Keshan stood up from his seat and overshadowed the frog and almost the Dragon, a towering presence of brown fur, intense green eyes, and muscles.

Sure enough, Meero had seen that guy on the organizational chart, three months ago.

And yet, he was here, offering him a handshake?

Meero looked down at it, blinked. Then he shook it, intensely.

“A pleasure to meet you, sir!” answered Meero, forcing a bit due to his stress increasing by increments of ten on his internal monitoring software.

“At ease, son. I’m here to share the message we have received directly from the Templars.”

“We… That’s… that’s good, we’ve been working on it since the attack,” said Meero, chuckling nervously while Joss pointed at the nearest chair.

Meero plopped down, smiling, though he could feel the arms digging into his sides. Something no different for the bear.

“I know. And I know you would have found something, son,” said the Bear, smiling. “Duties before Blood.”

“Haha… Yes,” mumbled Meero, grimacing a bit. “So… Am I? Interrupting something? You asked for me, Director Joss?”

The Frog looked at the Bear, then at his desk… Then, at his screen, before he reached for it. He turned the screen so Meero could watch it and… With the press of a button, the video started.

_It was the same room as before, with a blue curtain bearing the Templars’ symbol. The guy had a helmet, like before, and was nondescript.

However, this time… A face appeared beside him, like a TV presenter._

“Is this? … That’s the video?” asked Meero, trembling and blinking as Joss froze the video.

“Yes. Director Keshan received it on an internal address a few hours after the attack.”

“So… You’ve come here for this?”

The Bear nodded somberly.

Alert: Stress level beyond the standard threshold. Breathing Exercises are advised.

_The face was of another Dragon. Orange scales. Black eyes. Fins atop his head. Scars along his neck.

Yet, the mouthpiece of the Templar spoke highly of that individual.

“For years, Keero Scalebane, brother of Meero Scalebane, has been held against his will in the Allocer’s prison. We do not recognize the sovereignty of the Allocer micro-nation, and we do not recognize the cruel torture that has been inflicted on our brother in arms.”_

_Followed a footage of a guy, a Lion, getting beaten up in a white room. The scene was grimy enough, completed by cries and begging. By splashes of blood.

Yet, the recording froze.

“We warned Vexal Pharmaceuticals about their cruel practices. We warn you, Interpol, of the illegal incarceration of Keero Scalebane. Unless you release him, we will explode another Ziggurat. But this time, we will not limit ourselves to-“_

“We cannot release Keero!” shouted Meero, hitting the desk with his fist. His mouth contorted in anger, and his tail flailed. He would have almost roared, if not for the furry hand landing on his arm.

“Calm down, Son.”

“How could I? They are asking… They want my Brother out. They don’t know how dangerous he is!”

The Bear’s arm withdrew so that he could stroke his chin.

But Director Joss intervened.

“We do not plan to release him; that’s what we were planning with Director Keshan.”

“You do not?” asked Meero, grimacing and tilting his head, going from Joss to Keshan.

“We do not,” confirmed the Bear, raising his hand and asking for the computer’s keyboard.

Though a handheld device might have been useful, it seemed Keshan had a plan since he typed something and pulled up a folder from another access server after five minutes of fiddling. And so appeared Allocer.

Calling this place a micro-nation was insulting, since it was not a nation but an AAA subsidiary that had turned an old oil rig into a prison. Well, that might have been the start, but the thing looked like a floating island now.

One with barbs, walls, slums. Like someone had been taking a crap on the oil rig and turned it into the flimsiest prison that existed.

But surrounded by tall walls, drones, and a battery of indecent security measures. Almost.

“We do not want your brother out. However, we cannot refuse the Templars’ request. If they do, they will explode another Ziggurat. But since they asked us…”

“The AAA companies will say we’re responsive.”

Meero looked down, grimacing.

“So what’s the deal? You’ll take him out and then capture him back?”

“No. We will need you to impersonate Keero.”

“What?”

Meero blinked, watching the Bear typing and pulling up Keero’s files. From his date of birth, the same as Meero's, to the numerous crimes he’d committed: terrorist attacks, vandalism, destruction of corporate holdings, crimes against corporate integrity, first-degree murder, second-degree murder, manslaughter, involuntary or not. A list that was long for someone who looked so broken in his mugshot.

“You are egg brothers. Save for a few markers, you are identical, genetically speaking.”

“Yeah,” answered Meero, closing his eyes for a second to exhale. “But it has been years since I talked with him. I can’t impersonate him. I’m not that good!”

“You are good. You could think like him enough to capture him,” said Keshan.

“There is good. And there is ‘Good’,” articulated Meero, even air-quoting. “I was guessing about Keero’s whereabouts. But it has been years since we sent him behind bars. He has changed; I can’t impersonate him anymore. I… Damn. I couldn’t recognize him anymore.”

Silence. Meero’s hands dropped, then he twiddled his thumbs, bending forward.

“Should we?” asked Keshan.

“It’s… Only if he swears to secrecy right now. That’s my head on the line,” said Joss.

But his stressful remark, far from the phlegmatic demeanor, attracted Meero’s gaze as he watched his Director cross his arms.

“There is a solution. But you must swear never to talk about it outside.”

“I… I agree,” said Meero, blinking and looking to Keshan, who nodded along.

With that, Joss took back the screens, the images, and typed something.

Then, he produced a tablet.

“Press your thumb. Security measures.”

That was the first time Meero had to do that for an accreditation. But the longer the discussion went, the deeper they delved into dirty secrets. He pressed his thumb. Dubious. But curious. A curiosity and eagerness that had always pushed him forward.

“There is a tech developed by Allocer. A sort of mind-reading hacking tool. Lithos.”

“Whoa… Mind reading? But… Wait? Isn’t that illegal under the Hegessa Accords?”

“That’s why my head is on the line. It’s a project from Allocer that is tested to extract memories from the prisoners.”

“Wait… You are telling me a prison has mind-reading tech available?”

“Not available,” corrected Keshan. “It’s under test, but it is promising. It can synchronize minds and force out memories between different people.”

“So you know.”

“Everyone above a certain level of accreditation knows that. And it will be easier. We have been tiptoeing around Allocer enough,” commented Keshan.

“I would have preferred to keep it under wraps,” mumbled Joss, sighing. And then pinching his nose while reclining. “Please. Explain it to him.”

So… Keshan and Meero turned towards him as he pulled back the screen and brought back the picture of the prison.

“Allocer is using prisoners to develop new technologies. It should be highly illegal, but.”

“But?”

“It has the protection of a few AAA companies and most nations.”

“Most nations? Why would they protect it? Because they’re sending political prisoners and… Oh. Shit.”

Keshan nodded along, tapping the desk while leaning on it.

“Political prisoners, serial killers, anything goes. It started as a ransom system with Allocer keeping those prisoners so long that the nations paid for the incarceration. Then, the AAA companies turned their eyes to that little oil rig. Now, everything flows there. Even corporate failures. Jenins Elver? Gone that way.”

“Jenins-“

“The former vice-president of Burox.”

Meero blinked, watching Keshan admit so willingly they knew about such an illegal prison. About a place that was hell on earth. Or something that would make Hell look like a paradise.

“Why are we allowing that?” asked Keshan.

“Because it’s above us,” coughed Joss.

“What Director Joss says, someone is lining Interpol’s pockets so long we do not act up. That tech is one of those gifts, too. If they make it work, there will be a political push to allow it in the Intercontinental Union.”

“Bullshit.”

“Annex 3, article 165. Bluntly explained, if a country is under terrorist constraint, it may develop technologies that might be within the remit of illegal warfare. Allocer is a micro-nation mainly composed of prisoners. They can do that, they will do that, and then an article will be voted to exclude their technology from the Accords.”

Meero grimaced, feeling almost disgusted at the picture, at the idea.

“How many-“

“Now that the political and ethical aspects are out of the way, we should focus on the situation itself,” cut in Keshan, his clawed finger hitting the desk.

“Meero. We need you on this. Even if we get that technology, we need you to infiltrate the prison.”

“Why?”

“Why?” asked Joss, blinking.

“Why do I have to infiltrate? If that technology works, we get in, get Keero, get his memories, and I leave with his ID.”

“Impossible.”

“Impossible?”

Keshan sighed, leaning forward. In that instant, the Bear looked much older than Joss.

“They cannot extract Keero from inside the prison.”

“Why? Why can’t they?”

“Someone is lining the Warden’s pocket. We can prove Keero is still inside. But by the time we get Allocer to do an internal investigation to remove the Warden, this will be too late.”

“So… I must infiltrate a corrupt prison illegally, find my estranged Brother, somehow access a highly illegal piece of technology, steal his ID, and… Impersonate him?”

The last part was said with spite as Meero looked to his left, then to his right, at Joss, who seemed to shrink in his chair. And Keshan, who seemed tired.

“Is that the plan?” repeated Meero, hitting the table with his palm.

“It is the plan,” confirmed Keshan with a growl.

The Bear growled and straightened up, recovering a bit of his youthful composure.

“Son. I do not ask you this because we want it. But because this is necessary.”

“I did not sign up to be a criminal. Even during my infiltration, I had a handler to help me. Are you telling me I’ll go there alone, too?”

“You will,” confirmed Keshan, raising his chin. “Not because we want it. But because it is necessary to keep that mission under wraps.”

“Are you serious? Both of you?”

For once, Meero raised his hands, squared his shoulders. He wasn’t going for a bout, but he had his hands pointing at them.

“I am,” confirmed Joss, shivering a bit.

“We all are. Even the other Directors agreed with that plan. But you will have help from inside. We have informants who can help.”

“So now, I must work with criminals? It… It keeps getting better,” scoffed Meero. “I am an inspector. I did a few infiltrations, and then what? I am the expert who has to… To do all that?”

Silence.

A weary silence, with the neon light blinking above and the slight thrum from the computer screen.

“Is this an act of insubordination, then?” asked Keshan.

“What? No! I am saying this is too much for me.”

“It is insubordination, then. Much like how you got relegated from the response teams?”

Meero froze for a second, then clenched his teeth. That was low. Quite so. He groaned, frowned… And then, his hands dropped beside him.

Alert: Stress level beyond the security threshold. Please, leave your current environment and contact an Implant Technician

It was not surprising Keshan had read his dossier beforehand, but that.

“That’s low.”

“I would have preferred not to pull this card on you, Son. But I am out of options. The AAA will be breathing down our necks, then it will be the different nations. Do you know our standing? To the Union?”

“… Bad?”

“Terrible. If they do not disband us, it’s thanks to our ties with the AAA,” said Keshan, gritting his teeth and clenching his fist. “We are useful because we are helping clean up their shit, whether we like it or not. The moment we become a liability, we will disappear.”

“We-“

“We shouldn’t collaborate with them? You made your stance very clear, superstar. But you are not the only one on this ship. And whether you like it or not, your status won’t save your job if we are disbanded. Then what? To whom will you report? Esochia? Or a private company?”

Meero’s frustration continued, then… He sat, his hands dropping beside him. He gave up.

“Fine. I wouldn’t let that slide from them… You didn’t have to pull my dossier.”

“Someone needs to call out your bullshit, son. You might be good and have a good handler, but hot-headed reactions like this lead to bad calls. You’ve been lucky, but this… This is the moment you need to get it in your head you’re not perfect.”

“I get it!” answered Meero, shaking his head, his teeth gritting. “I get it. You can stop the verbal beating. God… Just… Just give me the details.”

Again, silence. Tension in the air. And then, the Bear relaxed while Joss sighed.

“We have prepared for you an identity. You will borrow someone’s ID and be sent to Allocer under the identity of Meef Anver.”

This time, the Bear leaned and reached for something, a paper trail, something highly unusual as he slid the paper forward, showing what looked to be a dossier about a… Yes. A rapist. Mug shot and all. A Crocodile.

“This must not leave this office with you,” said Keshan, before he continued. “You’ll enter Allocer. Then, if everything is going according to plan, you’ll need to go to the block C9. There, you’ll find the informant.”

“Who is this?”

“Someone who has accepted to work for us for so long, we keep up with their demands.”

“Illegal demands?”

“Merely keeping the truth from being exposed until he dies,” huffed Keshan. “Nothing new.”

The longer it went, the dirtier Meero felt.

But as he looked at that mugshot, at that face on the paper… The more disgusted he felt.

Taking the role of a rapist, and being helped by a criminal, while he’d done everything to clean up his dossier after his first fuck-up.

Then… Meero dropped, his head practically hitting the knee for a second before he straightened and rolled his shoulder.

“If I need to do this. I need to have more information about the prison. Everything you know.”

There, Keshan’s attitude relaxed, and he even smiled slightly.

“Good. We need that attitude for that case.”

-

The air was salty, quite so.

But so was the distant stench of fluids, of a crowd that had barely cleaned up, of a slum that was left to macerate in the open air.

Meero frowned, then closed his eyes.

Instruction: Nose filtering

The air felt much better after a second, allowing Meero to inhale deeply. No, not Meero. Meef. That was his name here. A serial rapist Crocodile, who’d been active in Esochia for the last ten years and who had been recently caught.

At the moment, the real Meef was kept somewhere safe before Meero extracted Keero’s chip, memories, and appearance. So, that bastard Meef would still end up in hell.

Still, Meero was feeling. Weird.

His horns were there, though they’d been sanded down and reshaped to the limit before it would impact his thermal regulation implants. As such, instead of two horns pointing back gloriously, it looked like Meero had two misshapen horns atop his head, while his scales were of a deep green instead of blue.

He could still be compared to a green Drake, but with his enlarged and weighed down tail plus the spikes removal, he looked closer to a crocodilian. The added scutes on his body made his chest, shoulders, and belly itchy. There were all recent implants, though, if someone checked the data from his internal systems, everything would all appear as… Old.

Old data, factory data, even. A protection, Keshan once affirmed, against Allocer’s security measures. However, this was not comfortable.

More so as Meero stood up. His steps were heavy, weighed down by magnetic chains that tied his legs and arms.

Much like the others in the sleek black transport, with the Allocer logo everywhere, Meero wore an orange jumpsuit that was tight around his limbs.

It made him look bulky, almost bulkier than most men or women who’d been in the transport, allowing him to avoid petty fights and murder attempts.

The smell of blood would remain in the transport while Meero, or Meef, stepped outside.

They were in a large courtyard surrounded by walls, but the sounds of waves were close enough to say they were on the edge of the rig.

Guards in sleek black uniforms formed a line from the transport to an officer. But by watching their faces, covered in scars, snarling or chuckling, Meero received the confirmation.

All the Guards in the Prison were criminals who’d been picked up. It was all to get more amenities, more advantages, more security, Keshan said.

More opportunities to grope or leer at the prisoners, too, Meero thought.

Still, he advanced, small step after small step, while their IDs were scanned. Each time, the guard holding the handheld scanner nodded, and the prisoners were forced to walk to the left, toward a small building that looked as dreary as the gray weather.

Sometimes the guy would scan a second time, but it always ended with the prisoners walking away.

Up to Meero.

The Dragon, disguised as a Crocodile hybrid, straightened up. He squared his shoulders, facing the tired one-eyed Koala munching something green.

“Name?” asked the guy, slurring. His teeth were almost rotten.

“Meef Anver,” said Meero.

Then, the Koala nodded, looked at his Bear subordinate, who lifted the handheld scanner near Meero’s neck. No traces of the surgery he’d received earlier for the implant swap. Nothing betrayed that addition since the fake was pressed against Meero’s real ID, wrapping around and hiding it.

Again, another security against the scan. But each time the scan passed over his neck, it beeped. Once, twice… Thrice?

Fuck.

“Oh. We got a funny one,” said the Koala, chewing his eucalyptus. “Fleshie is on duty?”

“Yes. He’s around.”

“Send him there,” said the Koala, snapping his finger at another subordinate who’d been busy stroking his groin through his codpiece. The Otter almost jumped, nodded, and approached Meero, grabbing him by the arm.

He led him right. Not left.

“Fuck? What’s happening?” he asked out loud.

“Customary inspection!” answered the Koala, laughing.

And his laugh wasn’t very reassuring. No more than the series of doors Meero was forced to cross, pulled by the Guard, who seemed angry to be forced to do this.

Alert: Filter at 50% capacity

Each time they passed a door, the sleek metal retreated, replaced by visible pipes, by water puddles, by a scent of rot and flesh and fluids the nose filter was treating and informing him about.

That place reeked. And worse, it felt like they were descending into the oil rig’s depths before… A song echoed. Rock. Old school rock. Something that was almost eerie when they passed a few more doors, and Meero’s filter beeped.

They were… In what could have been a morgue.

Stainless-steel dead-body storage, examination tables here and there, with hanging lights above. Antiseptic in ample amounts, dusty or broken curios with bottles inside. The walls were still covered with pipework, but there was that oddity: the tools hanging from the ceiling on hooks.

Worsened when Meero’s eyes found ‘Fleshie’.

The guy was a Badger. Not the Honey badger kind, more of the softer from the old continent. But not exactly. It was more like what remained of it. The guy was covered with steel, much worse than Meero. And he was evidently watching porn… Orgy porn from the cries.

“Fleshie! We got a case for you!” shouted the Guard, approaching and plopping Meero right on a swivel stool, dropping the orange-suited prisoner in front of… Well.

‘Fleshie’.

The eyes had been replaced with artificial multi-sensor eyes, much like a spider. His ears were meshes of steel. The guy had replaced his legs with two raptor-like implants. His arms, well, they were now two, though they were split with two half-arms holding onto a fleshlight, the guy was fucking… Fucking with a fucking artificial cock, as everything down his abdomen was artificial, too.

He was fucking, and still thrusting into that fleshlight. Even when he turned to the Guard, waved him off. Then, he turned to Meero, who… Snarled at this display.

He watched that guy’s junk, a steel pillar, fucking and outstretching that fleshlight until the poor plastic cracked, broke, and split open… All before the guy tossed it aside.

Then, without more words, the Badger sighed… Relaxed… All before his cock exploded in a nasty cum shot, going all over his fur, his computer, and his desk.

A vision that made Meero snarl as he watched that fake cum being sprayed everywhere while Fleshie had that stupid grin.

“The fuck?”

Finally, the grin disappeared. The Badger's red eyes flashed as he looked at Meero, frowning.

“Can’t you let someone have his fun?” asked Fleshie, one of his arms stretched above his head. The arm’s half-hand changed to become a connector that linked to a tool above the badger. A steam vacuum cleaner he used on the computer’s old keyboard and the screen. “Always the same shit with you, the new cunts. Always crying out loud, ‘Fuck, Fleshie. Why are you having fun?”

The guy was rambling, and as he spoke, as his face twitched, Meero saw the signs. Shivers, quivers. Someone who’d been on too many implants at once. Someone whose mind edged on psychosis.

That and that smile, with the steel serrated teeth he showed during his rambling.

“Yeah, I’m a fucker. Yeah, it’s duty time. Yeah, I work hard while I’m hard, and…”

The guy froze.

For a moment, Meero blinked, watching the Badger frozen in place, one arm outstretched to vacuum clean his computer. And then the rest of his body was perfectly still, even his junk that was done throbbing and now rested on the Badger’s metallic belly.

A surprising sight, for sure. One that led Meero to look around. No one else.

They were alone in that creepy room.

He turned to Fleshie and waved his hand in front of him. Nothing.

Then, he turned around on the swivel, shook his cuffs. He returned to Fleshie, who hadn’t moved. To those red eyes that were even unfocused. And… Meero stood up.

No reaction.

The guy was entirely locked in; it seemed.

Meero checked around, searching for something, a tool. Something that could allow him to remove those cuffs. But the Bonesaw looked mild compared to the heavy metallic handcuffs. He shook them again, looked at Fleshie, and then… The Dragon stood up.

The cuffs were heavy, but without a doubt, he booked for the exit door. He looked behind him, seeing Fleshie still reclined on his chair. And then… He opened the door.

No one outside, no guards. Left, there were the stairs he’d taken. Right, a corridor. Going back was to expose him to the guards, so he leaned right as he took a step.

“Are you already leaving me?”