FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The transition the League of Heroes went through when it became a subsidiary of Labyrinth Tech Inc. was as understated as it was bizarre. Several heroes returned to the league one day to find their fellow champions of right wrapped in tight blue and green spandex that hugged their curves in the most revealing of fashions. They spoke glowingly of the transition, informing the returning heroes how well-coordinated the new system would make their work. Unconvinced, the independent heroes insisted that their Labyrinth Tech counterparts had all fallen under some sort of spell and took to arms. After a conversation with the new leader of the League however--CEO of Labyrinth Tech, well-dressed minotaur, and all around nice guy Theo Cretes--the heroes' found the new dynamic perfectly reasonable and returned to work in their new outfits. The heroes kept their names (with 'of Labyrinth Tech' now attached to the end) but since everyone wore the same colours and masks, the inability to place blame for property damage made working within the system easier for everyone involved. Labyrinth Tech's oversight offered an opportunity for heroes to work in anonymity like nothing before. The general public felt perfectly content to ignore the obvious manipulation at play.

Argo, or Kineticist to the world, didn't agree. As one of the last remaining capes not under Labyrinth Tech's control, the fox did the only thing he could do when heroes no longer fought for justice but as Cretes' private security force. He kicked down the front door and decked the first hero he saw with a kinetic blast strong enough to knock out an elephant. His colleague would appreciate the black eye later when Argo took the boss down.

"Kineticist, what are you doing?!" sounded the aghast shouts from all around the lobby. Several of his former coworkers dived for him. Not one for subtlety, he leapfrogged over a nearby spandexed tiger, collecting enough kinetic energy in his body to cause electric blue sparks to shower from his fists. As he made a three point landing, he released those sparks outward. The metal floor made for a great conductor, allowing him to send a jolt up the spines of every hero in the main lobby apart from himself. Their bodies locked into place, some frozen in more compromising poses than others. One bat stiffened mid-stride and collapsed to the ground, rigid as a statue with one leg still raised in the air.

"Out of my way!" he bellowed as a screen unfolded from the wall in his direct path, rippling with inviting blues and greens. He punched straight through the center. The sound of a jet engine ripped through the air as his fist made a perfect hole through the monitor. He adjusted his domino mask which was fitted with polycarbonate filters. He received it from Assistant Researcher Ezran a long time ago for situations just like these. Detecting a presence, the fox whipped his tail backward to summon a wall of force that repelled an incoming costumed eagle gliding toward him for a sneak attack. Said eagle clattered to the floor, dazed.

He burst through the next set of doors. Already he found himself in an elongated corridor filled with branching paths--the titular labyrinth. To think, in only a matter of weeks this damn bull had completely reoriented the interior. Argo didn't recognize any part of this layout from his many years amongst the league. This villain definitely had plentiful resources. Either that or he had his mindless drones working overtime to create his twisted maze. Probably both.

Argo wouldn't be deterred. Thanks to a friend in the deepest darkest part of the web, he had a full printed map of the new layout, which he folded out before him. As far as he could tell, the minotaur had no powers and only through technology could he enthrall his victims. Without tech of his own, Argo was confident the minotaur couldn't and wouldn't zonk him. Going fully analog for this mission bolstered his chance for success.

He dashed through the maze, referring to his complex blueprint for guidance. The path was needlessly winding with multiple dead ends filled with swirling light. He managed to bump into these dead ends even with the use of his map. Thankfully, his mask prevented the hypnosis from taking effect but the idea that anyone had to work in this environment made his skin crawl.

In fact, his journey became more wrought with dead ends than he would care to admit. The rampage through the villain's lair he imagined in his head was far away from the real slog through identical hallways he currently endured. His pace slowed. This was no time to rush. If he messed up, his usual backup would be the first to place a brainwashing visor on his head. No one would come to his aid if he messed up. To take things slow felt like the right call, especially since he hadn't encountered another soul since he stepped inside.

At the twenty-sixth dead end, he really began to wonder how accurate this map was. Drawing a claw from his position (or what he hoped was his position) to the four tunnels surrounding him in the crossroads, he grunted. Only two ways to go and two dead ends. That was correct. That was on the map. Yet he could have sworn this branch contained three paths forward when he checked earlier.

The walk lasted hours. His fervent energy from earlier was depleted. The only companion he had in this labyrinth were the sounds of his own languid footsteps and the map clutched between his palms. He had grown tired, which he knew might be what this villain was going for. Run him ragged then swoop in while he was exhausted. His powers relied on building up kinetic energy with snappy movements, long jumps, and acrobatic feats. He didn't feel up for any of those right now and there wasn't much space to maneuver either. He wondered how long he had been in the labyrinth and how much further he would have to go.

His mind started to play tricks on him. Every now and again, between blinks, he could swear the steelwork hallways instead became filled with stone and torchlight before they reverted.

Another dead end. He checked the map as he shuffled onward. However, even as he gazed directly at his map, he could feel himself lose track of his goal. After several long seconds of zoning out, he came to realize he had been walking in circles, though he wasn't sure for how long. He stood still for a moment, eyes locked on the map. He truly must have been losing his mind because the drawn lines on the map began to shift and warp before his eyes. Laughter escaped his muzzle. Of course, it was so simple. His footpaws proceeded forward at the same shaky gait. His head lolled from side to side with every step. Tingles of fatigue washed through his limbs. His body slumped as he gave into them. He was so tired. So lost.

The map spun and warped before his eyes. The pencil lines shifted and morphed into a face. The bull's face. Theo Cretes' pencil-drawn eyes stared into his.

Words appeared at the bottom of his map. "Are you lost, little one?"

Argo nodded, still of sound enough mind to snarl slightly. "I'll...I'll find you...stop you..."

"Awwww, little foxy's all tuckered. Well no need to worry, little hero. You're almost at your destination. Here. I'll make it easy for you, even. It's going to get dark, so be sure to pick up that torch next to you."

Argo's arm reached up obediently and took the torch hanging from the sconce on the stone wall. He stumbled forward, eyes still glued to the map and the bull's smug grin. Which made him feel less infuriated than Argo thought it should. "N...Now what you...you bastard..."

"Don't worry your tired little head. I said I'd make it easy for you." The map's lines shifted once more, twisting into a whirlpool shape. No more dead ends. Just a straight shot, single tunnel winding round and round in a coiling loop in the center of which sat a marker that read 'Goal.'

He wandered forward down the winding path, step by step. His arms couldn't hold up the map any longer. He needed to reach the finish. He needed to achieve his goal. He swayed through the labyrinth like a zombie, hand along the dusty rock wall for support. The other hand held the torch as he made his way, slouched all the while, down the spiralling corridor. He felt the granite floor incline downwards, making the journey even easier. Every now and again, words wrote themselves on the map, encouraging him. "That's it lost lamb. Deeper into the maze. You're almost there. Almost lost forever."

The words did little to jar him. So exhausted and in need of rest, the fox could focus on little else but his destination. He had to focus on the spot at the center of the stone whirlpool where this torture would finally end. He would get a second wind as soon as he reached the end. He was sure of it. Then he could punish this bull. Then he could know peace.

When he reached a set of double doors after hours of twisting stonework, he felt like he might weep. The tired fox weakly reached up and pushed those doors open. They creaked inward and inside was a haven within the maze. The sounds of trickling water teased his droopy ears and dry throat. In one corner of the room, a babbling spring pooled outward into a zen pond. The cave featured a bedroll of the finest linens, a writing desk, intricately detailed togas that hung up on the wall, and, in the center of the room, a figure. His target. The minotaur of wide frame and swept back hair stood a few feet away, golden eyes smoldering into the fox. He wore a toga and loincloth that swept over his powerful shoulders and arms which were spread towards him in a gesture of embrace.

"Come to me, hero," said Theo Cretes, eyes like brilliant diamonds and voice as comforting as a lullaby. "You have failed. The labyrinth has taken you."

"Sh...Shut...up...?" The fox said before a drowsy yawn. He felt exhausted from hours...

...days...

...eons of walking through the impossible maze. But he remembered that the minotaur was bad. The minotaur wasn't his friend--no matter how stunning and virile as his marble-like horns made him look. The fox stumbled forward with determination. He raised his fist and...completely collapsed to his knees. His head plummeted into the bull's sturdy thigh and the fox had never felt so comforted, so secure in his life pressed against that pillow of muscle. The bull's broad palm stroked his ears and head.

"Shhh, settle down little hero. The fight is over. You've lost. But don't feel bad. You could never defeat me, you know. I've been conquering heroes and rewriting their stories for many, many years now. Even if you brought a long pink thread to mark your trail, you still would have gone astray. I'm the Master of the labyrinth. I control everything inside it."

"And now, you have found your way inside as well," Theo cupped the defeated hero's chin and steered his gaze upwards. The minotaur beamed with a smugness the fox found very fetching. Very fitting on a figure who embodied victory such as he. The vulpine became awash with admiration the more the minotaur touched him. He craved more. Needed more. "What's your name, little hero?"

He shuddered. The bull's voice slithered into his ears like a snake and wound tight around his mind. "I..." the fox tilted his head. What was his name? He pondered his lack of name with curiosity, but not urgency. Nothing could be urgent right now. Not when he was lost so deep in the labyrinth. "I...uh..."

"That's right. You don't have one anymore. It's become lost. And as you wander with me, you're going to lose a lot more in these twisted paths. But that's okay. Be lost. Lose yourself forever, if you like. No need to fight anymore." The fox smiled. Peace flooded through him at last. He shut his eyes and nestled between the bull's musky thick thighs. He let himself drift, drawn to sleep by the bull's gentle caress between his ears and his cooing voice soothing him so sensually. "Your name is mine. Your past will soon be mine too. The labyrinth calls to you now. Just like your fellow heroes. Just like Theseus so long ago. What's yours is mine. You gave it to me when you entered this place. And I don't think you want to leave anymore, do you?"

"Mmmm, nooosir..." The nameless fox mumbled as he went limp. A pair of arms scooped him up without effort. He nestled into the minotaur's firm, manly chest, unable and unwilling to resist his call to surrender. "Wanna stayyyyyy..."

"I know," the bull spoke and his Master's approval set off a resounding chime in his head. A goofy, sleepy smile spread across the fox's face as the bull tucked him closer. He couldn't wait to let sleep take him so he could dream of wandering his Master's maze forever--a failure of a hero, but hopefully a highly successful servant.