Chapter V: Bull by the Balls

Getting back home was a chore for both Caleb and Lance as neither of them could really walk very well. Lance winced every time his ass shifted with every step and Caleb had to take long steps or he would be reminded of just how much exercise he had put his cock and balls through. Though Bren drove them both back to the Hale Residence, getting up the driveway was something they both found trying. Even Lance's enhanced regeneration did not allow for him to recover so quickly from a night of wild penetration. Both boys had goofy grins on their muzzles all the way.

The sun was just starting to rise and Caleb hoped that no one else was up yet. Thankfully, it was a weekend so he could spend most of the day sleeping in. A night of non-stop orgasmic pleasure in an alleyway, the zoo and then again in the Facility wasn't very good for his sleep cycle. That and the life-threatening battle against mutant super bulls. That was exhausting too.

As they approached the door, Caleb turned to his brother.

"I really appreciate what you did for me last night, bro," he said. His ears folded back. "Still can't believe Dad would do that... Makes me wonder how much of what he said was truth or just bullshit..."

"I'd like to know myself," answered Lance, whimpering softly and nuzzling his brother. "If I knew why Dad was really so anti-Outsider, maybe we can help him break out of it... Still, it was a dick move. I'm going to tell mom."

Caleb froze and pushing his brother out at arm's length. "Lance, that's too much. I know what he did was pretty bad but no one really got hurt. Don't unleash Hurricane Hale on him."

"Fine, fine."

Their mother's wrath was legendary. Anyone who could reign in a full-blown super like Feral Steel, raise_four_ kids and assist that senator while remaining without power was formidable indeed.

The door sprang open before either of them could step inside and both boys froze when a tiger wearing a familiar shirt and pants stepped through.

"Ashton..." Caleb stated, having completely forgotten about the tiger.

The tiger grinned broadly. "Morning, gents! Back from an evening of fun and frivolity?"

His mind began working at supernatural speeds. How would he explain to the tiger that he had left in the middle of the night and was returning with Lance?

"Yeah," Lance said, grinning a little sheepishly. "I sort of got a little wasted at the bowling alley last night. Dad and Leon weren't much better. Did they make it home okay?"

"I believe so," Ashton answered. "I heard snoring from the room next to Caleb's and from all appearances your father is home. His slippers are gone from the rack." The feline gave them both an inclined head. "So you drunkenly called Caleb and he picked you up?"

That sounded like a good and plausible reason. "Yup," Caleb answered. "Just a few hours ago."

"Ah, you're a good brother. Well, I'll be off then. Sorry if I used your shower and borrowed your clothes, Caleb. I'll return them promptly cleaned and pressed."

"Take your time, bud." He gently patted Ashton's shoulder, trying to hide his relief. "Hey, if you wanted to hang out a little later, just give me a call."

"I'm free all day. Why don't you call me?"

"Sure!"

"Excellent. I shall wait with baited anticipation." He nodded to them both. "See you later."

The tiger headed down the street, fishing for his wallet in Caleb's pants, tail swaying happily from side to side. Caleb watched him go and only when those amazing, striped arms were swinging well out of his vision did he let himself sigh in relief.

"He spent the night?" Lance asked, the two of them entering the house.

"Yeah. Mom suggested it as he only started to head off pretty late. Said that it gets pretty dangerous at night. She was right."

"Boy was she right." Lance hiked his thumb upstairs. "I'm going to go soak in the tub a little and then probably sleep in until noon. You?"

"Just going to sleep."

They headed upstairs and parted ways at Caleb's door, giving each other a light peck on the lips. Ashton's scent was still in the air when Caleb shut his door and he let himself breathe once more in relief that the tiger hadn't been suspicious. He noticed that one of his sketchbooks was still sitting on his desk, probably from Ashton having leafed through it before he left. The tiger really did encourage Caleb's artistic side and clearly had a crush on him.

Unfortunately for the feline, things between Caleb and Lance were never better. There had been the inherent fear that Lance would start taking their father's side on everything and while that certainly seemed the case in public, in private... well... Lance got quite a bit of Outsider in him, so much so that their dad would probably be utterly mortified. That thought alone made him snicker.

Though he was weary, Caleb jumped onto his computer and accessed the site that Ashton had uploaded his images to. Apparently, it was originally a fur-based website for writers, artists, music mixers and all sorts of people long before furs became a regular occurrence. Caleb lost himself in the history of the site; going into detail about how before the Fur Emergence, there was a semi-public 'furry fandom' that predominantly existed on the internet but hosted 'furcons' here and there.

He shrugged, this was all ancient history, and began surfing the website. Pride swelled in his chest when his submission was posted on the 'top art' section of the site - under 'clean'. Looking at the comments, he conceded that the picture of Lance would have looked quite sexy with a cock but people were demanding more and urging Ashton to get his 'friend' to create an account. Grinning to himself, Caleb explored Ashton's profile and was surprised that the tiger posted poetry mostly. Even more to his surprise, Ashton had posted more of Caleb's art, always crediting him though.

That sneaky tiger.

He made a note to grab himself a scanner so he could scan his work and post it online. Shifting through his sketchbook and he wondered what else he should post. All these positive thoughts melted away when he came to a sticky note wedged inside the book that he had never placed there.

It simply read: 'I know you're Weapons Master.'

Lightning fast, he snatched his phone. There were multiple messages and missed calls from Mary, probably all terrible puns about how he and Lance had traumatised little kids with their ear-shattering cries of ecstasy. He immediately dialled Ashton's number. The three rings that followed were torture.

"You found it fast."

"What the hell are you on?" he snarled.

"Come now, Caleb," Ashton responded calmly. "You were gone the whole night at the same time that Weapons Master was out fighting? Further, you have images of Feral Fang on your sketchbook before he became public?"

"What makes you think I'm not Feral Fang?" It was a desperate ploy but one he sincerely hoped would work.

Ashton's laugh on the other side was still refined but held a malicious edge to it. "Let's be honest, Caleb, Lance_is Feral Fang. Or, at the very least, you're both one or the other. Leon and your father came home last night and you did not. Your father works for Feral Steel as his PR agent so he has reason to be absent since the madness of last night. Only you and Lance had no true alibi and I could detect a lie a mile away. I_ am British after all."

Caleb growled, his heart seizing up. "What do you want?"

Again, the tiger laughed at him, mockingly. "For my silence, I want one simple thing."

"What?"

"Draw me."

He froze, slowly pulling the phone away from his ear... before pulling it back again. "Come again?"

"Draw me."

"One more time."

Ashton laughed. "If you don't want the world to know that you are, in fact either Weapons Master or Feral Fang, I want you to draw me just as you plucked those amazing images from your imagination." The funny thing was, he actually sounded sincere. "And I don't want you to be squeamish about my genitals. They must be included."

"What!?"

"You heard me. Everything_must be included."_

"Why are you doing this!?" he howled.

"Because you are an extremely talented artist, Caleb Hale, but you're holding yourself back because of some bizarre artistic morality. You could be so much more if you just got over your phobia of drawing cocks!"

"That's my prerogative!"

"Regardless, artists must be willing to accept criticism and my criticism of your work is that it looks great except for the groin area. Even if you were to draw a sheath, that would suffice, but you go out of your way to fill it with a blank space. Hell, mate, putting a censor bar would be considered cute and funny but you're obsessed with making people look like plush toys!"

Caleb frowned, feeling his cheeks start to burn. "So...?"

"So, on our camping trip, you're going to draw me. In front of our other friends."

His tail fluffed out. "What!?"

"That's another condition. You have to do it in front of others."

"Why!?"

"It's practice for 'streaming', Caleb. Artists do it all the time. They draw something while people watch." Ashton sighed softly. "Look, I didn't want it to come to this but I saw the opportunity and I pounced on it. It's what tigers do. We pounce. The fact is, you need to break out of your shell and I just want you to be the best you can be."

"By strapping rockets to my back and shouting 'Fire'!?" he growled.

"That's colourful. Let's go with that."

Growling and feeling far too tired to argue, Caleb said, "You know what? Fine. Next weekend, when we go camping, I'll draw you in front of all my friends. Afterwards, I cannot guarantee your safety."

"Fair enough. I'll see you on Monday."

Caleb hung up but the moment he did, he got another call. It was from Mary. He was afraid to answer it but he couldn't refuse, not to the empath.

"You know," she said tauntingly, "if you had just stopped at one_orgasm that night, this would never have happened."_

"Shut up."

"Oh, don't worry. Ashton is a stand-up guy. He doesn't really want to expose your secret. In fact, he was a little thrilled to know an Outsider."

"Well, he still -" Caleb stopped himself, his brow furrowing. Mary had only known Ashton for a little longer than the rest of them and he doubted she had enough of a read on his brainwaves to know what he was thinking. So how did she know he was ecstatic to know an Outsider? Slowly, he turned towards his window.

Mary was waving at him coyly.

The pieces just clicked together.

"Damnit, Mary!"

*****

The mall was packed. Saturdays generally were. But even with the constricted space, a wide berth was left around the table were Mary was the centre of a ring of dagger-like stares. Nothing was said. Somehow, the crowd just knew to avoid the table.

In truth, the venomous stares were due to the fact this was not the first time Mary had exposed their secret to someone. Admittedly, the first time it had been because Lars and Ben had exposed their secret first but this was to a civilian!

"You really need to consider you liberal interpretation of the term 'secret'," Alex said bitterly.

"Why are you complaining?" she responded. "It's not your secret that's exposed."

"Not the point. It's called a 'secret' for a reason. If you're just telling everyone..."

Mary waved a hand absently around her. "In my defence, Ashton figured it out all by himself. He's really bright. I tried to allay his suspicions but he is also very stubborn. His final ploy was to wait for Caleb's call. If he got the call, then his suspicions would be confirmed."

"Then why didn't you tell me not to call!?" Caleb snarled.

"I tried but you were thought all my messages were lewd, inappropriate comments about how you speared Lance multiple times last night." She glanced away, absently scratching her cheek. "Though I suppose that's as much my fault as it is yours..."

Caleb ducked his head, pressing his forehead against the metal table. "Man... I'm screwed..."

"I don't see what the problem is," Ben said with a shrug. "So one week from now, you just need to draw him naked. You have five days to get over your drawing-penis-phobia and then your problem will be solved. If you want, I'll use my family connections to blackmail him into shutting up. We will be going to my family's cabin, after all."

He eyed the werewolf suspiciously. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that you're scared of drawing cock and you have 120 hours to get over it?"

"No. The whole part about being in your family's cabin." He narrowed his gaze at Ben. "You don't have some sort of medieval torture chamber beneath the cabin, do you?"

Ben laughed. "Of course not! That's actually about six miles south of the cabin and it's not medieval. Strictly twenty-first century. Keeping it right underneath the cabin will just pin the blame on us."

He wasn't sure if Ben was being serious or not but shook the thought from his head. "Can he even be trusted? I mean... he's blackmailing me!"

"For your own good," Mary said. "He's just trying to help."

"By forcing me to draw cock!?"

"It's part of your evolution," she said, waving her hands theatrically. "Come on. You know you've been thinking about it and it's always been your secret shame. It's like you've got this tiny, baby wolf in your head that squirms and giggles every time you start drawing boobs and cries 'icky' when you get to penises." She stood up, pumping a fist into the air. "It's time to murder that little bastard!"

...

"Okay..." Caleb said, cautiously edging away from her. "Lars, what do you think, man?"

The Doberman wasn't paying attention. His eyes were solely on his script and he gave a vague 'huh?' before returning to it, lips moving to the lines. Remembering his talk with his best friend the day before, he pulled back on the insults and gave the others a warning glare to ensure they didn't say anything either. Still, he valued Lars' opinion... but how to break him out of his trance-like state.

Though he felt like he was taking a little bit off Ashton, he leaned in close to Lars' ear and say, "Lars... You seem tense... What do you think about going to the locker rooms right now and relieving some of that tension?"

To his surprise, the Doberman waved him off. "Yeah, yeah, Cale. Blowjob, anal, whatever. I'm sure that chick was great."

Everyone peeled back from the quarterback, regarding him in horror.

"Uh... Should we be worried?" Alex muttered.

"Lay off him," Caleb grunted, resting his muzzle on his arms. "He's just focused on the play and wants to make it a success. Do your best in whatever you do." He growled and flashed Mary an almost pleading stare. "When you said things were going to get complex, I never thought it'd be like this... My Dad is pretending to play nice while trying to stab Weapons Master in the back. Ashton has the hots for me while trying to blackmail me into drawing cock. Lance and I have amazingly hot sex because it's a huge turn-on for both of us when we're rivals on the field and lovers in secret. Oh and let's not forget Minos and his horny bulls..."

Mary shrugged as she began tapping at her phone. "I find it quite hilarious that you're exactly in the same position Lars and Ben were not too long ago with the exception that you and Lance know each other's identities."

Lars broke away from his script and stared with a matched horrified expression at Ben. Before they had been roped into the world of the Gene Stealers and Outsiders, Firebrand and Blood Wolf had been dating in secret despite being enemies out in public. The irony was not lost on Caleb and he growled at Mary from bringing it up.

"You know what?" the Doberman said, setting down his script. "I've got a shit tonne of time before I have to perform. Today, I'm going to help my buddy draw cock."

"And how are you going to do that?" Ben asked, clearly bitter about the change of topic. Caleb briefly wondered why the werewolf was so eager to revisit the issue of the two dating.

"In private," Lars responded. Caleb sat up, staring in horror at his best friend. Thankfully, Lars allayed his fears by waving a paw absently. "Not like that, dickhead. Come on, my truck."

"Oh... Okay..." Caleb murmured.

"What the hell!?" Ben exclaimed. "I've invited you for sex at my place dozens of times and just like that, you go_his_ place?"

"It's not sex," Lars answered, taking Caleb's paw. "And even if it was, it's because we've got history."

Caleb wasn't really much up for arguing as his mind was muddled with the dozens of issues floating around his young life. He barely registered leaving the mall before he arrived at the car park. There, he stopped in front of a jet-black pickup truck with blue flames as decals. When Lars jumped into the cabin, he started to return to the land of the living and stood by his friend.

"Um... isn't this a little... I dunno... obvious?" he asked. "Black truck. Blue fire... Flare Blue...?"

Lars shrugged absently. "One thing you learn as superhero boot camp is how to hide in plain sight. You make it blatantly obvious you're the hero and people won't look twice at you, thinking you're just a wannabe. When people look at my boy here" - he ran his paw over the dashboard - "they see an arrogant, overconfident jock who is clearly trying to compensate for something and has an unhealthy obsession with the Outsider Flare Blue. They'll never think that I'm actually Flare Blue unless I drive him up to the battle and we've all agreed Bren will drive us in the van unless there's an emergency."

That was a good point. Caleb wondered if he should customise Ballistic to represent Weapons Master more. Then he shook his head free of the thought. That would just annoy his father and though David Hale had attempted to do something extremely underhanded yesterday, he was still Caleb's dad.

"I guess your first pay check came in?" he asked.

"Totally!" Lars beamed. "Hop in. I got your gift right here."

It worried him a little that he couldn't see what Lars was gesturing at. Still, he trusted the Doberman surprisingly more than he trusted Mary. He liked them both, even loved them like family but Mary was just evil and manipulative. He knew he could trust Lars with his life.

The cabin still had that new car smell though the Doberman's scent and musk was starting to seep in. He detected Mary's aroma as well but it was very faint.

Lars presented him with a small, wrapped package with holes torn in the side and several strands of tape wrapped around it. "Sorry. I suck at wrapping."

"Thanks." He began unwrapping the gift and his eyes widened when the face of a new tablet was presented to him. Its flat frame was cool to the touch and the sleek, black screen simply prickled with the billions of nanobots eager to bend to his will. "Lars, you shouldn't have."

Every student was given a tablet whenever they started at a school. Not loaned, given. It was part of the government policy about 'no child left behind and no student without a tablet'. Every school was _required_to ensure that they got the latest tablets every year. Thus Caleb's tablet for school was still fairly new. Although it was still rare for students to get new devices in the middle of the year unless there was a major release.

"I know what you're thinking," Lars said, holding up his paws. "But it's not your normal tablet. It's actually an art tablet. You can use your school issue one to draw stuff, yeah, but this one actually detects pressure and angle. Plus, there's a neural link you can hook up to your ears like headphones and it'll draw stuff straight from your imagination. Though I figured you'd be a more traditional pen-and-stylus sort of guy so I got you this too."

A complex art pen/stylus was handed to him.

"Full integration with most of the graphics software you can get in the world," Lars said. "Touch sensitivity and with eraser nub at the end. It's got portal-tech bound to it as well so if you ever lose it, just tap the 'recall' button on the app on the tablet it's bound to and it'll open a portal for the pen to slip through and return to you."

"Now that's thinking with portals," Caleb said, picking up pen and grinning. "Man, this is amazing! How could I -"

His eyes flicked towards his friend and for a moment, his breath got caught in his throat. He had heard the other students and his teachers in art class go on and on about moments of inspiration; where they just saw _something_that made them want to draw, paint or just generally immortalise something into some form of medium. He had always rolled his eyes in typical jock fashion and just doodled his way to an average grade.

But the way the dust particles in the car just caught the light around Lars' soft, brown eyes, the gentle smile on the Doberman's muzzle, the strong curves around his neck and the flecks of gold in his light brown-blonde hearfur...

"I must draw you."

Lars flinched. "Wh - What!?"

Caleb shook his head, reeling himself back for a moment. "I - I mean, do me a favour. You know how I need to get over drawing another guy's junk?"

"Yeah..."

"Well... Let me draw yours."

The Doberman made a very strange expression. His lips were pulled back in an almost snarl on his right side while his eyebrows were lifted, eyes wide in shock. "What the fuck dude!?"

"I mean I've seen your cock and balls every day after practice and on sleepovers," Caleb said, bobbing his head from side to side. At this point, he was just trying to find a reason to get Lars naked so he could draw the picturesque Doberman before his inspiration slipped between his fingers. He could _imagine_the Doberman and actually found the _will_to draw every aspect of his friend without some part of him giggling uncontrollably and blushing. "What better way to get over this phobia than with you? Ben will make some sort of excuse to rape me, Alex has a boyfriend so it'd be weird and Mary doesn't have one... though god knows, she probably has a storage closet of them somewhere..."

Lars' expression relaxed a little. "Okay... But you've got to promise to practice my lines with me." To further his point, Lars held up his script.

Caleb grinned and gripped the script. "Deal."

*****

Lars' apartment was fairly roomy but, typical of a teenage jock, it was a sty. Clothes were tossed everywhere, half-eaten meals were stacked in the rubbish bin and dishes remained uncleaned. Apparently, a maid was due to come in twice a week after Bren had seen Lars' living conditions and nearly died of an infection on the spot.

Still, after they had brushed aside some space, Caleb practiced lines with Lars for the upcoming musical. Though he never really sang, Lars' voice was monumental and Caleb found his inspiration just growing more and more.

After a few hours and when Lars' voice grew hoarse, they sat down, Caleb took out his new tablet and pen and asked Lars to strip down. Caleb was a quick worker when it came to his sketches and though it took him some time to get used to the feel of the tablet, he managed to crank out several sketches of Lars - mostly clothed - within an hour. With each sketch, more and more clothing came off until Lars was just left with his boxers.

"Okay," Caleb said, taking a deep breath. "Ready?"

"Yeah..." answered the Doberman, slowly sliding off his boxers. "You know, in any other case, this would be the perfect lead up to sex."

"Don't make this weird, dude," he laughed, getting himself ready.

His friend was blushing. "So... Uh... how do you want me?"

"In whatever pose feels most natural."

Lars chose to simply lie down on his three-seater couch, one arm resting by his side while the other lounged against the headrests. His right leg was slightly bent while the other's perfect, muscular frame was stretched out. The pose was almost perfect. Caleb quickly went over to a nearby window and shut the curtains slightly so only a few bands of light played across the Doberman's sculpted body.

"Perfect!" he exclaimed and positioned himself parallel to Lars. "Don't look at me. Look at the window."

"Alright..."

Caleb went to work, his paws zooming across the tablet trying to capture every detail in the picturesque moment. His mind just screamed 'hero' in his mind like this is how a hero would look like when he was relaxing, that perfect pensive look on Lars' features completing the picture. Admittedly, Caleb put more detail into the environment than before, drawing the couch and everything else around it before he eventually got to his worst fear. But by then, he was far too caught up in the moment to really care.

Just the outline... then the details, textures and finally...

"Done!" he exclaimed. "And you aren't neutered!"

Lars grinned at him. "Let me see!"

The very naked Doberman leapt off the couch and peered over Caleb's shoulder's, looking down at the image. He heard Lars' take a sharp intake of breath and he feared he had gotten something wrong. Did he make the dick and balls too big? It was the chest. The pecs weren't pronounced enough! Were his entire proportions off!?

He watched for Lars' reaction.

"Cale... It's amazing." The Doberman turned to him, a brilliant smile and a shine in his eyes.

Caleb took a breath and realised he could smell his friend's musk and scent. Their noses were just an inch apart, their lips just a little farther. At the same time, their smiles began to fade... their jaws pulled down by gravity not of the Earth's, slowly opening, slowly being drawn together. Caleb bent his head to the right, Lars to his left. Their ears folded back... eyes half-closed in -

'Waiting for you' played.

Both of them snapped their eyes open and leapt away from each other at the same time.

Caleb was the first to let out a nervous laugh while Lars quickly followed, turning away and searching for something to wear. Mind securely focused on finding his phone, Caleb dug into his pocket and flicked it open.

"What's up? Gene Stealers?"

"Sort of," Bren responded. "Elliot has some news."

Lars ears perked up and he turned, a pair of boxers the only thing he was wearing.

Caleb regarded him worriedly as well. They shared the same thought: what did Elliot have to say? "Good news or bad news?"

"Little bit of both. Come over to the Facility quickly."

*****

Elliot was the resident super-genius of the Outsider branch of West California. He was an Outsider himself though his superpower was just incredible intelligence far beyond anyone's level at his age. Of course, the orca was a total ass about it and never failed to remind everyone around him of his importance or that without his gadgets and his intelligence, they'd be lost. It pained Caleb to admit it though but he was right.

That and the fact that the orca constantly strode around with his foot-long dick hanging out... especially when he was bragging about how smart he was or how he had just made some new gadget. It was the times when he was wearing pants that were a worry.

And Elliot wasn't wearing pants when Caleb strode into his room with Lars.

"What's up?" he asked.

"Your empty brain, that's what, Muscles," grunted the orca, refusing to turn away from his enormous holographic screen. Elliot's room was enormous and filled with a myriad of nerd-centric collectables, junk-food and billion dollar equipment. That he was using a matter compressor as a cup holder was always something that horrified Bren.

"That was weak," Caleb observed, having developed a sort of immunity to Elliot's sharp tongue. He moved beside Mary and Bren who were both looking extremely concerned. Ben was also present alongside a tall, statuesque man that Caleb remembered as Ben's adoptive father, Samson Connors. It was rare to have any members of the Alpha Pack in the facility. They were only allies by the barest of threads.

"Sorry," answered the orca surprisingly sincerely. "I've been working all night trying to figure out the new Minos Strain while you were fucking your brother at my doorstep. Interviews with the various victims have proved somewhat fruitful as they've obtained the same level of sanity as any other Generation 1 Thrall. They're lucid but so much as mention sex or arouse them in any way or attempt to confine them and they're inconsolable."

"Have they revealed who this 'Minos' is?" Lars asked.

It was Samson who shook his head and answered. "Unfortunately, no. None of the Thralls were able to get a good look at Minos let alone understand how they were transformed."

"You didn't... torture them, did you?"

The patriarch of the Alpha Pack snorted. "Of course not. They were forthcoming with the information. However, Martha and Cameron did try to use their powers to give their memories a jostle."

Lars' superhero instincts were kicking in and Caleb had to grip his wrists to prevent him from attacking their ally. "What did you do?"

"Nothing to harm them as agreed," grunted the huge man. "Martha has mild clairvoyance and is practiced in the shamanistic arts. She tried to commune with the spirits to discern the truth but even they were confused. Cameron, the Alpha Pack member you know as 'Nightmare', can delve into people's minds and bring forth their greatest nightmares or manifest memories. The eyes absorb everything and the brain stores it all but compartmentalises the unimportant things. He can reach into the minds of others, with no harm to the individual, and bring these memories for others to see."

Lars huffed loudly. "No wonder you guys are always so well informed."

"It helps keep us ahead of our competition."

Before Lars could spit out something else to increase the tension, Elliot waved a finger through the air. "They did mention, however, that those tattoos that they're all covered with were not theirs and when we looked into their memories, we noticed that the tattoos spread rapidly across their forms and then the transformation occurred."

"Well duh," Caleb muttered. "We told you that the first time we encountered them. We saw one of the bulls change some cops and the tattoos spread."

"Correct but I can't trust an idiot like yourself with more muscle than brains and has sex with his brother right where people can hear. Not to mention record."

Caleb's tail fluffed out.

"I destroyed the recordings," Bren said. "And I also threatened to cancel his subscription to D&D Monthly if he has any copies left."

Elliot grumbled loudly before continuing. "Anyway, I extracted the samples of the nanobots that the tattoos were made of. They're have some pretty complex programming in them. Normal tattoo nanobots generally have a single set of code that dictates what shape they should take to form the tattoo. However, these guys seem to have a sort of infinitely recursive and replicating code that is consistently waiting for some sort of signal. I can only surmise that this signal is what dictates their shape but what puzzles me is where they get this signal from and how they create replicas of themselves to spread across the skin."

"Do you suppose Minos was present at the site?" Mary asked, regarding the screen on Elliot's enormous computer thoughtfully. Images of the tattoos and battle sights were revealed not to mention the four known supers created from the attacks. "Maybe he was mentally producing the signal somehow? Gnoll's transformative abilities rested entirely in the signal being embedded into his laugh."

"That ain't it, kiddo," came a deep, rumbling voice.

Caleb turned and nearly fell over in shock as the gargantuan, lumbering form of Lewis 'Madman' Sanchez emerged from the hallway. He was dressed from head to toe in figure-hugging, black combat armour. Around his neck was a silver collar.

"Madman!?" exclaimed Lars. "What're you doing out of your... erm..."

"Cell?" grunted the hyena with a sinister grin. "Call from upstairs. I'm being deployed for combat duty."

"With the possibility of the Gene Stealers being able to produce new supers, the Outsiders are effectively outnumbered right now," Bren said. "Already, there are four super-level individuals out there. We only really have three members full-time on the Outsiders. Ben and the Alpha Pack aren't full members."

Lars waved his paws through the air. "Hold up. Aren't we at risk of telling the public that we employ criminals?"

"We're already allied with a known crime syndicate. Further, the world knows about Caleb's ability to transform into those hyenas. We're getting the PR division to spin this in a way that we're emphasising reform and acceptance instead of judgement and bigotry."

Caleb winced. It sounded like another thing that would get his dad fired up. He hated being caught between the two but he knew what had to be done. Madman had become a crucial asset since he and Arcturus had a "talk". Whatever the Hound of Death had told him certainly made the hyena turn a new leaf.

"What about his transformative powers?" Mary asked.

"This collar nullifies the signal," grunted the hyena, tapping the silver collar around his neck. "Damn uncomfortable but looks fucking sexy." The hyena then nodded to the screen. "As I ready told Pudgy over there, the Gene Stealers wouldn't use some sort of mental signal. It's too impersonal, gives too much power to the single entity. Chimera emphasised this through his lackeys. Everyone needed their individuality. Said something along the lines of 'if you give a man a fish, he will eat but if you teach a man to fish, he will be fed for life.'"

Lars snorted. "Same thing is echoed in the Elemental Alliance. We're encouraged to 'realise our own powers'. We're given basic classes on ethics and how to control baseline powers but we're given free reign to learn to control our individual powers. Still, they're pretty tight-assed about how you develop them. You need to write a bloody thesis on the theory of your new powers before you can even put it to the test. If a council of veterans agree to your theory, you still have to wait months for proper testing equipment to be built."

Madman snorted. "Back in our hidey-hole, we were just told to do what we could to develop powers because, apparently, it'll come naturally. Never got that bullshit though. Chimera believed in it though. That's why he made sure that even Gnoll's transformation signal does not alter the mentality of the victims. It just unleashes what's already in there; the sexed-up, feral beast. Clarity comes later."

"Two sides of the same coin," chuckled Samson. "Both seem focused on developing superpowers but where the Alliance seems geared towards isolating those inherently born with those powers, the Gene Stealers' goal seems to be to populate the world with supers."

"I never got into the details or the grand master plan." Madman shook his head. "Whatever the case, Chimera explicitly forbade any mental transformation signals. It would be too easy for Originals to implant his thoughts into the victim and turn them into just another Thrall; another clone. He's been trying to veer away from that."

"Into what, I wonder...?" Bren murmured softly. The feline handler turned towards Elliot. "We're still working on the identity of Minos and his method of transformation but we may have lead. Show him, Elliot."

The orca nodded and began bringing up the crime scenes. "All of the incidents have taken place at West Marrington, a part of the CBD. If the infection is spread through the tattoos somehow, either because the initial application somehow is infused with genetic transformative agents, then Minos will need an actual tattoo parlour. You can't just apply tattoos at home, you know."

No one said a thing as Elliot showed all the tattoo parlours located in West Marrington. "I isolated all of the parlours available and, wouldn't you know it, there is actually a tattoo parlour called 'Minos' Tats' in West Marrington."

"That's a little on the nose, don't you think?" Ben asked. "Would he really be that obvious?"

"Maybe but he's not making it easy. Minos' Tats burned down in the last attack." Elliot turned to the others, frowning. "It's my guess that the asshole intentionally had the place burned down and covered his tracks with another attack to prevent us from tracking him down. He's taunting us. It's basically like giving us the middle finger and telling us we can't catch him."

"But the fire shouldn't have consumed everything," Caleb said. "There must still be traces of something."

"Looks like you're pretty down to earth after all, Muscles. Yes, there should be some traces left. Bren has got an executive warrant to let us I to the site. Bring anything you can find to me and I'll see what I can do about it. With luck, we can figure out how he's changing people and develop some sort of countermeasure. Oh, and Muscles..."

Caleb's ears perked up as Elliot tossed him a familiar silvery gladius.

"I've finished analysing this thing," the orca said. "You're right. Because it's made of the same genetic material as that bull with baseline superpowers, it's got the same regenerative properties and will eventually metamorphose into something more powerful. The only problem will be that once it's rate of regeneration falls behind the rate at which its integrity is consumed, then you won't have any way of recharging it. Don't have a bull around."

Grinning, Caleb said, "So what you're saying is... I can keep levelling it up, gaining experience every time I use it until such a point, that it evolved_and when it reaches its _max level_then I have to wait days before it recovers its _hit points."

"Stop referring to it like it's a bloody videogame!" Elliot shouted. He absolutely hated it when Caleb referred to his evolving weaponry using videogame slang despite being a colossal nerd - even bigger than Caleb with the_TT_ series. "But... yes..."

"You know one thing I don't get?" Madman asked. "Your genetic material code changes when you turn into a hyena. Why couldn't you just collect your own cum and pour it over Funny Bone when you use it? Not that I'm complaining. I get paid to jack off."

Caleb blinked and suddenly found all eyes in the room levelled at him. He blushed deeply and regarded the sword in his paws. "I... Uh... I never thought about it that way before... Erm... I suppose that could work..."

"Might even work better for all you know," Elliot said, a sinister smirk on his features. "All we'll need to do with Raging Bull is to make sure Caleb gets infected with an Original strain, turns into the brainless bull we all know he us and collect his 'milk'."

"You are not turning me into a bull just for shits and giggles!" Caleb roared, swinging the sword through the air. It sizzled slightly and let out a soft, sing-song slinging noise. Flakes like snow dropped from the weapon.

"It's an option," Bren said grimly. "We all need to make sacrifices, Caleb. We've analysed Matador - I think it should be called Matador - and deciphered that it somehow emits glass shards infinitely and passively. We're not yet sure what powers it could unleash until you use it but from what we've seen, cut someone with that thing and it'll hurt like hell because they'll have tiny needles of glass embedded into their flesh."

Mary let out a soft chuckle and started walking past the others. It was amazing how she commanded such authority that everyone gave way to her. "It's funny. Maybe if it evolved to develop wings, we can call it 'Red Bull'."

"It's not evolution!" shouted Elliot. "Metamorphosis! Meta-morpho-sis!"

*****

Graffiti was still a problem even in the thirty-first century. By the twenty-third century, buildings were covered with a special type of laminate that would ensure any sort of paint would just slip off - after being painted themselves, of course. In half a year of the development, paints were being sold that could overwrite the laminates because repainting became so hard. Naturally, people got their hands on these paints and used it for graffiti.

By the twenty-fifth century, someone came up with the idea to put a restriction on the paint itself. Special nanobots where then mixed in with most name brand paints and If the paint was used for graffiti, an officer could come up and apply use a special 'kill command' that would erase the paint. Of course, after that, people just figured they could hijack the kill command and 'artistically kill' segments of a painted wall to make their own kind of graffiti called 'negative graffiti'.

Then there were phases in Earth's history where graffiti was encouraged, then banned, then the aliens came and then it was considered vandalism yet again. That said, it was still extremely foolish for Lester Blue to be making his mark of private property in broad daylight.

"Hey! You!"

The twenty-something young man with short, curly brown hair turned and instantly found himself face to face with two burly officers wielding their stun batons. Escape was impossible. For a human, he was below the average height of six feet and one of the officers was a feline, cheetah from all appearances. Furs were generally physically stronger than humans - something that came from their all-fur dimension where they were constantly oppressed by an anti-fur alien race.

Lester raised his hands and dropped the spray paint can he was holding. "Awww man, come on. Really?"

"Really," grunted the human officer, a tall man with short blonde hair. "Vandalism is still a crime kid. You're coming with us."

The cheetah officer moved behind Lester, immediately slapping a pair of neural inhibitors on his wrists; two heavy metal rings emitting a soft blue glow from the perfectly geometrical gaps in its frame. They were designed to ensure that conscious neural commands sent from the central nervous system were blocked for the captive's arms. Blood continued to flow and flesh would still heal but the user would not be able to use them.

Lester gasped as it suddenly felt like he had lost his arms. No pain; just the momentary shock of his brain knowing he had arms but for just could not contact them.

The first officer moved in front of him. "Got a name kid?"

"Bite me."

The man shook his head sadly and made to turn around. The funny thing about the WCIPD, they were overly reliant on their technology. Just because the neural inhibitors were around Lester's wrists, it didn't mean he wasn't dangerous and as the man turned, Lester lashed out and bit down on the man's left forearm.

"Ow!" cried the officer, slamming the stun baton into Lester's flank. A bolt of electricity shot through Lester's body, enough to stun any normal man his size. Of course, Lester was no normal man. He still pretended that he was shocked and fell back to the ground, twitching as if every nerve in his body was going haywire.

"Son-of-a-bitch!" cried the human officer, clutching his forearm. "Bastard bit me!"

The cheetah laughed heartily. "He got you good, Al."

"Damn... He broke the skin... Let's bring him in. I got to get this bandaged up."

"Awww, suck it up, man. It's just a bite."

"You think 'just a bite' is safe with all these 'Gene Stealers' running around or whatever they're called?"

Lester hid the smile he held and continued to spasm just a little bit. It was funny that this officer would mention the Gene Stealers as they had one right in their midst. Little did they know that they had just captured Minos not by chance but by design.

He was yanked off his feet and dragged into the nearby police car. Hovercars were readily available but only police and emergency services were allowed to use them. It allowed them ease of access to roads and emergencies while ensuring that the rest of the people safely drove on the ground. Lester was thrown in the back behind the grating separating the officers from their captives. The cheetah applied the seatbelts and a moment later, they were off to the police station.

Just as Lester had intended.

This was way too easy. No wonder Gnoll has so much fun.

It only took ten minutes to reach the police station. There, he was pushed into the broad, busy office where other policemen were just starting to pack up for the day. But Lester was not interested in them. Oh no. After being identified as Lester Blue, he was told that since he was no longer a minor, charges would be pressed and he was thrown into the only other jail cell available in the police station.

Thanks to Gnoll's intelligence, he was placed right next to a burly leopard dressed like he was in some sort of prom night brawl. Although he was far too old to be going to a high school prom. Perhaps smart enough to be at that level but certainly much older. The force fields preventing prisoners from escaping were erected and Lester watched the officers do their thing, the officer he had bitten going off to get his arm bandaged.

"So... what're you in for?" Lester asked, lounging back on the seat. The cell was simple. Two benches, one sink, one toilet. His cellmate sat on the opposite bench.

Frankly, Lester expected some sort of arrogant rant. Something along the lines of, 'Don't you know who I am? I'm Emerson Wills. The _fucking_quarterback for the West Cali Knights! I don't belong here!'

Instead, what he got was, "Drunken and disorderly conduct." Emerson gave him a shaky smile. "Funny thing is, I only had one beer and I punched the guy who made out with my girlfriend. That guy got off."

"He did? Why?"

"Eh, I paid his bail."

That surprised the Gene Stealer. "You did? Why?"

"He's drunk. Probably had a bad night. Just needs to sleep it off."

"And you're here sitting in jail? Why?"

"Because I'm the one that deserves to be here," answered the leopard with a soft smile. Hiking a thumb absently over his shoulder, he said, "That guy was drunk and didn't know better. I was fully aware of myself and _still_threw the first punch. I need to cool off."

Perhaps it was the fact that he had this idea that all football players were dumb, aggressing shitheads that punch before thinking. Such thoughtfulness and consideration actually surprised Lester. Of course, it was also colossally idiotic.

"You know that guy is just probably going to drink more and get himself in more trouble, right?"

Emerson shrugged, his huge shoulders moving like the mountains at a god's will. "Yeah but then it wouldn't be on my conscience."

That was refreshing. An experienced sportsman that wasn't trying to make their impression on the world by making an impression on people.

"Any chance you could spring for my bail?" Lester laughed.

"Sure. What're you in for?"

He froze. "Wait? Really? You don't even know me."

Emerson shrugged, a soft smile on his muzzle. "Everyone has their bad days. They make bad decisions that lead them down bad paths. All they really need is someone who will believe in them. Faith is a powerful thing, you know." The leopard reached down his tattered shirt and pulled out a crucifix. He kissed it lightly before shoving it back down his shirt.

Damn... a Christian... That would make things harder... Or was it? Lester glanced out into the police station. That human that he had bitten was just coming out of the infirmary with his shirt rolled up on the arm that now sported a bandage. It was always good to have contingency plans. Gnoll was the charmer. Lester... Lester was the artist.

"Got pulled because I was caught tagging a wall..."

"Tagging?"

"Graffiti, stud," snorted Lester. Maybe the guy wasn't as smart as he had first believed.

Strangely, Emerson just smiled. "I heard that graffiti artists are just those people who didn't have a chance or opportunity to express themselves in socially accepted mediums. Or that people just didn't get their art."

"Oh people get my art. You could say it changes them."

That was funny. If Gnoll were here, he'd laugh. Or at least use it as an excuse to laugh and change all the guys in the station into the big, buff hyenas he likes.

"So why do you do it then?"

Lester shrugged. "Because I don't like being constricted to what the world defines as 'art'. The whole world is my canvas! I'm going to make the most of it."

There was something unsettling about Emerson's smile. Not that it was actually intended to be unsettling but it was just so benign and gentle. Lester couldn't understand it. He was a delinquent, a social pariah that was frowned upon even more than those Outsiders. Emerson was a popular, rich, charming feline who could win anyone over with his smile. The footballer should be calling him names, demanding a change of cells or beating him up for breathing the same air as him.

The popular always put down the unpopular...

"Well," Emerson began, "if the world is your canvas, how about you put it on display where the world can see it and it won't be erased the moment it's seen?"

Lester blinked. "What?"

"Have you heard of the Top Art exhibit?" Emerson asked. "It's a roving exhibition that goes across the states that picks up the best of student art in the state that it's visiting. They normally focus on graduating students but at the same time, there are other exhibits. I happen to know that they've got a few spots left in the 'street art' section and if you're interested, I could get your stuff up there."

What was this guy? They met in a jail cell and here he was offering him a spot in a national exhibit. Not that Lester was arguing. That was the plan though he had expected to transform Emerson first and foremost or at least convince him to see one of his artworks, change him and then train him up to shift back so that he could make the call for the exhibit.

But here was the big leopard, smiling at him like a forgiving saint to a sinful child.

It made Lester's skin crawl.

"No thanks," he grunted. "I'm not selling out like that."

"The offer will always stand."

'Always'... Why was there something in that word alone, in the way Emerson said it, that unnerved him.

Where was that officer with the -

"Hey Al, where'd you get that tattoo."

There we go.

Lester pretended to look away due to embarrassment but he was quietly watching the human officer with the bandage. The guy looked like he was getting ready to head home. Two other officers were standing around him.

"What're you talking about, Frank? I don't have a - Da fuck!?"

The officer, 'Al', peeled away his bandage revealing a big tattoo. Lester wasn't quite sure what it looked like. He really didn't have control over the shape the nanobots took. That was all based on what was ingrained in the target's personality and their subconscious.

"F-f-fuck... It... It burns!"

And there we go. The idiots just kept staring at it as Al clenched his supposedly wounded forearm despite the absence of any cuts or bites. Right before their eyes, Al's forearms bulged to five times is original size, thick muscles rippling against pale flesh. Seconds later, his hand thickened to suit the growing muscle mass. Bands of ink began spreading out from where the original tattoo was, seeping up his arm.

A strangled cry erupted from his throat as the bands shot up his neck and all over his face, embedding themselves into his flesh and infusing him with the Minos strain. His flat face surged forward, the cry becoming a trumpeting 'moo'. The mix of euphoric release, adrenaline-pumping panic and eye-opening experiences began to overwhelm the emerging Gen 1. He thrashed his head left and right, salivating as his horns burst out of his head and his cock exploded from his groin. Al must've been one horny bastard because tattoos marked his thick, bovine flesh in the shape of big, pulsating cocks. Cum instantly exploded from the mutated member, splashing it all over the two officers that stood by. The guy fell on his ass, yelping loudly as a new tail tore through the seat of his pants. A firm, bubble but took the change to his lower body, tearing his pants to shreds as thick, muscular thighs rippled forth. He had to kick his shoes off as his toes merged, becoming cold and hard before taking the shape of diamond-hard hooves.

Lester had to keep a smile across his face. Gen 1s were so predictable when they transformed.

Within seconds, the two other officers were backing away but tattoos were already starting to spread where the cum had touched their bare flesh. One had even swallowed some of it and he stuck out his tongue as the ink marks began spinning all over his tongue.

All three men burst out of their uniforms and proceeded to spill their seed all over the office. Driven only by instinct, they immediately began searching for a hole to fill. Those already changing were considered friendly while everyone else was hostile. These two instincts working in tandem drove the emerging bull men to plough their huge cocks into the escaping officers.

"Holy shit!" Emerson cried, leaping up from his bench. "The Gene Stealers!"

Lester found himself suddenly at a crossroads. Transform Emerson now and fulfil the plan... or don't. The bulls wouldn't gain enough sentience to bring down the force field until much later but Lester could easily just kiss Emerson and the infection would start.

Kiss? Why kiss? Why not bite or scratch?

Lester shook his head free of the thought and grabbed the big leopard's paw. "Come on, hide," he urged, pulling them both behind the one of the benches. It was a poor hiding spot but in the lust-driven craze the Gen 1s would be under, they wouldn't be able to really register them.

"This is insane!" Emerson cried, his big, muscular body shaking in fear right next to Lester.

So close... It would be so easy...

Suddenly, a big, spotted arm wrapped around Lester. "If they come for us," Emerson said. "Run for it. I'm big enough. I can distract them."

...

Lester didn't know what to say. "But you'll get transformed."

"Probably but at least you'll make it out."

Something stirred in the Gene Stealer and when Emerson pulled him close to protect him, he did not protest.

Oh well... it was good to have backups.

*****

Wielding Branding Iron - as Caleb came to call his new weapon despite the 'Raging Bull', 'Matador' and 'Red Bull' suggestions - the Outsiders returned to the site of the fire. Police had quarantined the area with people in hazmat suits just in case they came against something that was remotely even infectious. Lars was unsure how effective those suits would be but it was good to give hope to the civilians.

Thanks to Bren's warrant, they were allowed to pass through the barrier made of powerful hard-light and into the quarantine zone. Naturally, their hoods were up to hide their identities though Madman had no such thing to hide his features. They all figured he was too big to hide anyway. The cops gave him a wide berth and some of the overseeing supers were particularly on edge.

Lars spotted his parents discussing something with the lead investigator. Some part of him wanted some sort of acknowledgement from them even if it was a scowl of distaste or a flash of a snarl on their muzzles for his betrayal. But they ignored him. They saw him, their gazes met for the briefest of moments, but their faces remained still and they went back to whatever it was they were talking about.

Somehow, he knew Mary was beside him before she even said anything.

"Am I some sort of attention whore?" he asked. "Am I just doing this to spite my parents to get some sort of reaction from them?"

She shrugged as they entered the burnt alleyway. The building had held surprisingly well despite being made of old materials. Most of the CBD was still made of old-fashioned brick, cement and steel. Newer buildings were made of reinforced dexterite - a material that was pliable under certain conditions but utterly solid it others - and infused with self-regenerating nanobots that repaired any cracks or structural integrity issues after taking in solar energy. Ordinarily, a fire would have taken a long time to burn down a building to its bare husk like it had with the main structure.

"On some level, yes," she responded as they tailed behind the others. "But on another, it's because you knew it was the right thing to do and I think that's the one that dominates you. You stepped out and exposed yourself, put the risk upon yourself and no one else. That was really brave of you, Lars. You may have wanted a reaction from your parents out of it but the boost in popularity of the Outsiders is reward enough. You know that."

"Yeah... Yeah I do..."

Beneath her hood, he knew she was grinning. "So... How'd the tablet go?"

Lars held out his thumb and forefinger about an inch apart. "This close."

"Didn't I tell you it would work?"

"You did... Sometime soon, I've got to sweep him off his feet without your help, you know."

"When you grow up, Lars. When you grow up."

Despite the fire damage, the interior of the tattoo parlour was mostly intact. Somehow, a console's shell had remained intact but it looked like the police had already confiscated the hard drive. Bren said he'd get the analysis soon enough. No tablets had survived the fire, unfortunately. The tattoo machine used was hopeless melted to the ground.

"Some of his examples survived," Caleb said, reaching down and picking up what appeared to be a sample of a tattoo. It was one of those samples designed to be posted on the walls to give customers an idea what to get. It was contained behind a powerful laminate that had resisted the fire. Its edges were melted and some of the page was burnt off but it was mostly intact. At least the tattoo was visible in its entirety.

"Keep it if you want," Bren said dismissively. "Elliot was fairly confident the transformation is in the ink and the signal comes from somewhere else. We've already got enough samples of his 'art' and his ink to know. Just make sure no one licks the bloody thing."

"It's just the signal that's missing," grunted Madman as he shoved an entire desk aside with his powerful paws. "It isn't something in the shop either. That other guy, the one you guys first encountered, he didn't transform in the shop. It must be something about Minos. Something we're missing."

Lars was really fascinated at the hyena's transformation. He glanced at Mary who easily read his thoughts. She nodded in approval and he moved towards the hyena who was examining a case of melted piercings.

"I'm curious there, Madman," he said. "What got you on our side?"

The hyena snorted and plucked a melted lump of steel off the pile. "A fucking demigod, that's what." He glanced over his shoulder. "Yo Bren, any of the victims have piercings?"

"Unfortunately, no," answered the tiger. "Good thinking though. This is also a piercing shop... Maybe the audible clinks of the piercings made a signal similar to your laugh?"

"Shark Tamer isn't a one-trick pony. He's a scientist and favours repetition when it proves a point." He turned back to the pile and growled softly. "What is it...?"

"What?" Lars pressed. "Did Arcturus threaten you with hell if you don't play nice?"

"Furs don't get hell," snarled the hyena, his yellow eyes narrowed. "Unless one of the gods from any of the other faiths interrupts on your behalf, you don't get punished for your misdeeds. Arcturus just downright devours_your soul. It's what gives him his crazy powers and those glowing wings. He's a fucking _soul vampire."

The Doberman flinched. "Wolf Christ... really?"

"The only thing that can save you from utter oblivion is if one of the other gods decides that you're too good for an easy death and chucks you into one of their versions of hell. Me? Arcturus said that it's not death that I should be worried about, but living the rest of my life alone."

"What...?"

The hyena moved towards the wall, gently rapping on the burnt frames with his knuckles. Lars followed him. "No one wants to be alone, Sparky. I felt on top of the world when I followed Gnoll but when I was thrown in that cell, I was confident Gnoll would come after me. It's been a month. They know who you people are now and they haven't even rescued me. I thought I belonged there. Apparently not."

He paused as a dull, hollow clunk met his knuckles. "I figured that if I'm forced to live in this shitty life, I might as well do it being liked." The hyena's eyes were surprisingly pensive from the crazed, sex-driven madman he had been just a month ago. "I know now we were just decoys. Gnoll was weeding us out. We weren't good enough for him and we were thrown aside. Fine. He doesn't want me, I can live with that. Someone must. Arcturus said as much."

Lars frowned to himself. "Are you sure about that? Maybe some people are just destined to be alone..."

"When the Hound of Death tells you that your soulmate is out there waiting, you don't just call him a liar."

Maybe Lars should ask Arcturus if his soulmate was waiting for him. For the moment, he moved beside Madman and tapped the same space the hyena had located that odd sound. It sounded like there was something metallic and hollow behind the wall. Applying some of his super strength, he tore the bricks from where they stood.

"Damn..." they both sighed.

It was just a pipe.

They spent the next hour and a half searching for anything that would reveal the identity of Minos. Sadly, the Gene Stealer seemed to have removed everything that was worthy of note. A few other tattoo examples remained but they were deemed useless.

"Well folks," Bren said with a heavy sigh, "it seems we've come to a dead end on this one."

"I'll see if I my mom can divine anything from this rubble and this 'art'," Ben said, plucking one of the pieces of burnt rock from the ground. "She sometimes gets flashes from the weirdest things."

It was a faint hope but that was the best that they could do. Lars felt like, once again, they were falling behind. Again and again, they were reactive to the Gene Stealers. If only they could discern where the Gene Stealers were amassing or where they were working. Sadly, from what Madman had informed them, each 'cell' worked independently with only the Originals conversing regularly. That meant every strain had their own operations and even if they took one down it would be hard to track the others.

Plus, they were technically outnumbered.

If all the cells attacked at the same time, the Outsiders, Alliance and even the Alpha Pack would be hard-pressed to stop them as they would be bouncing back and forth from one attack to the other. It didn't help that there was tension between the Outsiders and the Alliance...

He moved towards Bren as the tiger was speaking with one of the forensics team.

"Something up, Flare Blue?" the tiger asked.

"What's the situation with the Alliance? I'm just thinking we really can't keep this rivalry between us going if we're going to stop the Gene Stealers."

"Fair point but we're more than willing to work with them. It's the Alliance that are being stubborn."

Lars made a sour face he was glad Bren couldn't see. "Any idea why?"

"Multiple reasons, are my guess. Each of the supers have their own reasons. Some of the younger members probably sympathise with us but the veterans and ultimately the ones who call the shots are most likely as hard-headed as Feral Steel."

"Is there any way we can figure out why that is?"

Bren shook his head. "As you know, the government is strictly forbidden from the personal records of superhero teams. Even after a federal superpower test, the results are immediately locked away and only registered superhero teams are allowed access."

"Okay... but you have records on Caleb's dad, right? Public records. Are you sure you can't figure out anything about him that public?"

The tiger let out a thoughtful hum. "I suppose that is possible but it would be heavily filtered by the Alliance. So much so that we never really bothered because of it." Bren flicked a finger at Lars. "If you can interest Elliot, you can have him look it up for you. But I suggest you clear it with Caleb first. This is his father we are talking about."

Lars glanced at where Caleb was standing beside Mary, the two of them examining the various tattoo samples they had collected. They were searching for some sort of signature or maybe even artistic style.

"Yeah... Yeah, okay."

Suddenly, all their phones sprang to life. Lars reached for his and noticed that it was the Facility's number. Only Elliot was back there. Did the Alliance somehow find the Facility?

"Hello?" he asked just as the others answered theirs.

All at once, Elliot's voice shouted across all their phones.

"There's another attack! West Marrington police station! Get your superpowered asses there quick!"

******

CRASH!

Dark thunderheads had already gathered over the West Marrington police station by the time Caleb and the Outsiders arrived. Shockstorm and Siren had beaten them to the battlefield and they were already unleashing their trademark combination.

Shockstorm originally just had the power to alter currents of electricity around him but over the years, he had developed the power to conjure bolts of lightning himself. Rumour had it that he had obtained such a high level of control of electricity that he could actually control the electrical charges in a person's body and control their limbs.

Siren matched up perfectly with her husband by being able to manipulate water. While she did not possess the ability to conjure water, she was able to manipulate it into various forms, turning it into moisture or even ice at her will. Her most frightening ability was the ability to freeze a body instantly due to its high water content.

The two always began a battle by Siren manipulating the moisture from any source within hundreds of miles to create immense thunderheads. From there, Shockstorm manipulated the electrical charges in the air to whip up a storm. Rain began pelting the battlefield, making the entire field a killing ground for the two incredible supers.

The bovines charging out of the police station were all blindly driven by instinct. Male and female alike just charged at the two who stood calmly at the base of the white steps flanked by large statues of eagles. The bulls charged first, horns levelled and wide grins on their faces, their enormous, tattooed bodies glistening with the pelting rain.

Even Caleb knew that was a terrible move.

Ka-ZAP!

Bolts of lightning arched down from the heavens, forming a venerable wall of constantly dancing electricity in front of the two supers. The bulls were thrown back, their flesh sizzling but their rapid regeneration quickly easing the wounds. The cows were a little more cautious but they never got to move an inch as an enormous wave of water crashed into them from behind, throwing them down into the stairs. All the bovines were suddenly held in an enormous block of floating water, unable to breathe.

"Are they going to kill them!?" Caleb shouted.

"No," growled Lars softly. "Just going to incapacitate them. The bulls have super regeneration. Their bodies will recover." He glanced over at Bren. "They have this under control. Shouldn't we..."

"We need to maintain our presence on the field even if it is just as backup," Bren insisted, marching forward, revolver at the ready. "Like it or not, we're in the public's eye now and we have to keep up appearances."

Suddenly, their phones all began ringing again. Exchanging glances with the others, Caleb answered it alone this time.

"Elliot?"

"It's a fucking shitstorm!" cried Elliot in a panic. "The village where we were keeping the other bovines and the two other Gen 2s, Spit Roast and Bullhorn has been attacked!"

"What?" he cried.

"I was Stampede and Taurus! They broke them out!"

Guilt slammed hard into Caleb's chest, almost making him double over. Taurus and Stampede? Those bulls he had allowed to go free...? They had freed the others...? The sensation passed however and he reached for Branding Iron with his other paw.

"Where are they headed?"

"Straight to your position! All four of them_. They boarded a bunch of dropships and from what I'm seeing, they're heading straight for West California Island! We can't scramble fighters fast enough to intercept them! That place is going to get really crowded,_ really soon!"

Siren had released the bovines from her watery grip and was moving towards the police station with her husband.

"ETA!" Caleb barked, bolting straight towards the supers.

"Seven minutes!"

"Hey!" he shouted after tossing his phone to Bren. "Shockstorm! Siren! Big problem!"

The two supers froze. Siren turned away coldly and continued up the steps but Shockstorm actually stopped and paused. It was hard to read the Doberman's expression but at least he stopped.

"We've got a problem!" Caleb exclaimed. "The bovines that were being held broke out. They boarded dropships and are on their way here!"

That caused Siren to freeze and spin around. "What?" she demanded.

Bren charged up to them flanked by the other Outsiders. "This place is about to become a warzone!" He turned towards the small group of people that had gathered to see what was going on. "Everyone! Get out of here! Go! Run!"

"You'll never get them away in time," Shockstorm said, actually showing emotion as he growled. "Not like that." Lightning cascaded down from the skies and collided with his paws. He gripped the crackling bolt and threw it straight at the ground, metres away from the group of people. "Listen to me!" he roared. "A contingent of Gene Stealers are on their way to this location!"

"Six minutes!" Caleb heard Elliot shout from his phone that Bren held.

"You must all get away!" Shockstorm continued. "Leave your belongings! Leave! Now!" To emphasise his point, lightning slammed into the rooftops of nearby buildings. Being mostly business buildings and since it was the weekend, they were mostly abandoned.

"Five!"

Caleb turned to Bren. "What's the plan?"

Bren glanced towards the police station as more gunfire erupted from inside, his eyes rapidly searching the entire building. Even Shockstorm and Siren were regarding him eagerly. "We've got people inside but we can't afford to go in there and rescue them. If those bovines get here and we're sandwiched between them and the existing group inside, we're done for."

"Four!"

"So we're just going to leave those people in there to change?" Caleb shouted. Something bubbled up inside him. He remembered feeling that pinprick against his neck and the horror that filled him as the serum changed his body, drove him out of control. It was like being locked in his own body, unable to control any of his movements but at the same time wanting to do be the hyena,wanting to tear Lance's ass open, wanting to see him change into a big buff spotted maniac just like him...

He couldn't let anyone suffer through that.

Caleb turned and bolted up the stairs.

"Weapons Master!" Bren shouted.

There was a blur of black beside him and he saw Mary's silver-tipped coat flapping behind her. For a second, he thought she would move to block him. If she did, she'd say something and that would be the end of his little bout of defiance. She always knew what to say. Instead, she had drawn her swords and swung them.

A bull came rushing out of the police station at that very moment, colliding with her blades. The swords got embedded into the guy's flanks. Mary instantly let go of them and leapt at the bull, planting her feet against the blades and leapt up form them like a platform. Her feet came level with the bull's surprised muzzle. Even Caleb had to wince at the flurry of kicks that slammed into the bovine's face, breaking both his horns.

Mary somersaulted in the air and landed deftly in a crouch. She swiped her swords from the fallen, unconscious bull.

"What are you waiting for?" she demanded. "We've got three minutes!"

He grinned beneath his hood and charged in after her. Throwing that same grin over his shoulder, he said, "You guys hold the fort! We'll rescue the guys inside!"

The gunfire was coming from the second floor but the first was already crowded with wild, thrusting bulls and the cows beneath them.

"Glad to see that the male to female ratio in our police department has evened out," Mary said, combining her swords to become the large, single weapon.

Caleb held his own sword, Branding Iron positively sizzling. "Think any of them will get pregnant?"

"You know... I don't know."

They exchanged glances, wondering at that very fact. Their thoughts were interrupted when two bulls caught sight of them and charged. Caleb swung Branding Iron, trusting instincts alone. The blade seemed to multiply, conjuring hovering, glass versions of itself in a wide arc. The blades shot forward a second later, seeking out the two bulls and piercing their flesh. One bull was sent crashing to the ground as the glass blades slammed into his knees and subsequently shattered, splintering into his very flesh.

The other continued his charge until Mary stabbed her sword into the ground in front of Caleb and then swung around it, pivoting around with her legs outstretched. Her legs slammed into the bull's temples, sending the bovine into the ground.

The racket caused the rutting bovines to look up.

"Please tell me that thing has some amazing superpower that you can abuse," Mary said, separating her swords once more.

Branding Iron seemed to hear her as at that moment a loud noise like glass crashing against one another filled their ears. Beside Caleb, large glass panels appeared and came together, forming a sloping back, a broad chest and two enormous horns. Wielding a tremendous axe, two bull-men made completely out of glass made their presence known with tremendous roars.

Minos' bovines had a second of shock before they charged blindly. Caleb's minotaurs met them -

SMASH!

Both Outsiders winced as the minotaurs were bowled over and shattered like the glass that they were made of.

"Saw that coming..." Mary murmured.

The bulls roared in triumph and turned their hungry gazes at Caleb. But right behind them, the glass shards began to quiver... and then sprang up of their own accords, recombining to shape the minotaurs again. One of their big axes came crashing down, slicing right across the bulls back and sending the mutant screaming.

"Now that's impressive."

Realising the threat of the glass minotaurs, Minos' Thralls turned their attention towards the two. Another two glass minotaurs came into existence as Caleb and Mary bolted up the stairs, joining the wild melee.

The second floor was a little less chaotic. The police men had managed to create a makeshift barricade in front of a jail cell made of upturned tables. Only about five bulls were present, charging at the barricade and trying to leap over it. When one came close, the policemen opened fire. Their bullets didn't even puncture the thick hides but it was enough to drive the instinct-driven bovines back. Behind the three police men where another two individuals; a muscular leopard that Caleb recognised as Emerson Wills of the West Cali Knights and another scrawny guy.

Caleb swung Branding Iron, sending a wave of glass swords slamming into the backs of the bulls. These _did_puncture the flesh and caused the bulls to roar in agony. All attention was suddenly turned to the two.

"I'll take them," Mary said, swinging her swords through the air. "You get those civilians out of here."

"Can you take them all?"

She made a cocky sound. "Just watch me."

With blinding speed, Mary darted past Caleb, her swords a shimmering blur. The bulls never even got close to her. One tried to swipe at her with enormous, inked arms but she dodged deftly to the right, spinning her swords through the air. She knew better than to fully slice through a bull as her swords would only get embedded into the thick muscle and iron-like hide. Her control over her form was frighteningly precise and she made sure that her swords left painful slashes across the bull's arm all while in mid dodge. The moment she landed she rolled forward and swiped her blades backwards, cutting through the hamstrings of the bull and sending him tumbling.

Another bull came charging at her from the left. Mary spun and flung her sword at the guy. Driven only by instincts, the bull didn't think the move through and stopped, ducking the flying weapon. Mary was suddenly upon him, using his head as a launch pad to soar into the air. She spun and slammed her _elbow_right into the top of the bull's skull, instantly knocking him out.

The remaining three exchanged glances. One yanked a glass blade from his back, hoping to use it against Mary's swords. The instant he held it in front of his face, Mary was suddenly there, slamming it right into his muzzle. The sword instantly shattered, sending sharp shards of glass into the horrified bull's features. As he pulled back and let out a roar, Mary slipped around his back seizing his horns and wrapping her legs around his impressive torso. She yanked at his horn, sending him reeling into both his comrades.

She finished them off with a swift whack to the side of the head with her sword.

Caleb just stood and watched. "Show off."

"This coming from 'Oooh, look at me. I can summon practically invulnerable glass minotaurs'."

He smirked at her and moved towards the barricade, the policemen looking up at him in relief.

"Jesus Wolf Christ!" exclaimed one. "We owe you one, Weapons Master. You too, Blade Babe. Those bastards were going to bowl us over and turn us into one of them for sure if you hadn't turned up."

"Time for celebrations later," Caleb said. "We've got to get out of here. We've got reports that a whole horde of those bulls are on their way here right now including four supers."

"How long?" Emerson Wills asked, rising to his feet and pulling up the other guy.

BOOM!

Caleb couldn't tell if that was a blast of lightning or an explosion. "About now."

"Front door is a bad idea," Mary said, glancing down the stairs. "Bren and the others are outnumbered and we've still got those bulls on the first floor. They're sandwiched."

There was a third floor... If they could...

He caught Mary's gaze.

"The next building over is shorter than this one," she confirmed. "We should be able to jump to it, make our way down and catch Minos' troops from behind."

"Perfect." He turned to the civilians. "Follow me!" Just as Emerson Wills passed, he caught the leopard's paw. "Um... hey, can I ask you a question?"

He was about as tall as the leopard, maybe a few inches shorter. "Sure, what is it?" replied the footballer.

"Can I get your autograph?"

The leopard smiled at him. "Get us out of here and I'll write your fucking biography."

Mary led the way up to the third floor which was surprisingly undisturbed but no one gave it any thought as they quickly charged past it and up the stairwell onto the roof. The rain was pelting them hard, lightning falling down almost as frequently. Despite the venerable typhoon, black flames were being shot into the air, seemingly unaffected by the water around it.

Spit Roast was here.

Caleb ushered the policemen to the edge of the building. Like Mary had said, the next building over was shorter. It was still about ten feet across but with the height advantage it was manageable. "Go! Go!" he ushered.

One by one, the policemen made the leap, landing safely. Emerson suddenly picked up the unnamed individual, the twenty-something guy giving a cry of protest as the leopard used those famous legs of his and made the leap easily. Mary nodded at Caleb next and jumped.

Caleb took a few steps back for a running start.

"I knew I'd find you here."

That voice. It brought a surge of rage deep inside of him, rage fuelled by a sense of betrayal. Just over the ledge, he saw Mary and even with her features hidden, he could sense her worried look. When she shook her head, he smiled back at her, knowing full well that she knew his intentions.

Straightening, he turned around...

... and found Taurus hovering at the other edge of the police station still naked and still covered in all those tattoos but with his cock resting quite modestly in his plump sheath.

"Well, you found me," Caleb answered, the anger inside of him still burning but instead of a raging inferno, it became focused like one of Lars' blue flames. Some part of him knew that this was the path Taurus would've taken and he felt stupid for giving the guy the chance to escape especially now that the super had helped facilitate a mass escape.

Still, if he had learned anything from Madman and Arcturus, it was that instinct and drive were great but it should not be the only thing moving his body. He focused, gripping Branding Iron tightly. Curiously, he noted that Taurus' horn was still broken.

"Not going to engage me in some sort of witty hero-versus-villain banter?" Taurus asked, grinning broadly at him. "No speech about betrayal? Nothing about how I took your offer of freedom and still joined the bad guys? Nothing?"

"I'd honestly rather you just let me kick your ass."

"You're no fun. Supers should at least dance the dance."

"I'm not a super."

By his flanks, glass shards appeared, forming two of the glass minotaurs. Caleb swung Branding Iron in an arc over his head, producing a venerable halo of glass swords. The flashes of lightning glinted off the beautiful, perfectly shaped weapons and even made Taurus pause.

Suddenly, a bolt of pain exploded from Caleb's sword arm. He gasped and stared at the weapon, trying to grin through the momentary stinging sensation. Bathed in the same eerie, blue light,Branding Iron changed shape. A beam of light shot towards his right leg, consuming it entirely. Caleb felt the cold grip of metal against his leg. A similar sensation consumed his opposite shoulder. Moments later, the weapon stopped its glow. His left shoulder was encased in fierce armour with a pauldron shaped like a bull's head. From his right hip down, metal armour encased his leg. It felt a little strange to have armour on opposite limbs and not completely over his arms or legs but he knew what this meant.

Branding Iron had just levelled up.

"I heard about this," grimaced Taurus. "Your weapons sometimes grow in strength. They become even more dangerous and powerful."

"Got that right," Caleb answered with a grin. Beside him, four new glass minotaurs appeared. On some unspoken command, the four newly created allies turned and leapt off the building, joining the fray down below. He hoped Mary had already rushed in to support Bren.

"I had hoped to fight you before that happened." Taurus hovered in the air, putting up his fists in a fighting position. "Despite all the supers out there, the fact that you can adopt a hyena's shape is most worrying of all! You must be eliminated!"

"Just try it, asshole!"

Taurus suddenly shot into the air, making his body perfectly streamlined and shooting back down into the battlefield in front of the police station.

For a second, Caleb was left in shock... Had the guy just retreated? Was he going to go get one of the other supers? After all, how much could flight -

"Holy mother of fuck!" he cried.

Taurus returned, hefting a whole bus hover his head.

"Oh right... super strength..."

The bull let out a tremendous roar and threw the bus. Caleb just trusted his instincts and swung his sword upwards. Glass particles just seemed to materialise out of nowhere and collide with the blade. They piled on rapidly, coating the blade in thicker and thicker layers of sharpened glass until -

SWISH!

... they extended the blade a whole_thirty metres!_

Sharp as any steel, the blade was still only as heavy as the original sword. The two halves of the bus came crashing towards him still but two new glass minotaurs slammed their axes into them, sending them soaring off to the side.

Taurus huffed loudly and ducked away again.

Caleb quickly repositioned himself, bolting towards the centre of the building. Being on the edge would be dangerous.

A second later, Taurus returned, hefting a lamppost in each hand. He let out a roar and zoomed towards Caleb, swinging the posts like bats. Caleb swung Branding Iron in return. The blade slammed into one of the posts. He feared it would shatter but it held surprisingly strong. Then, the sun glinted off the blade... and he noticed something about just how clear the blade was...

This wasn't glass...

It was diamond!

WHAM!

He had forgotten about the other pole. The ground came up to meet him, knocking his already dazed head closer to unconsciousness. Somehow, he managed to shake it off and -

CLANG!

Suddenly a heavy pole pressed up against his neck, choking the life out of him. Taurus was right above him, grinning.

"Too bad you aren't a super," the bull snickered. "A blow like that would _never_have knocked a super down so easily.

Branding Iron was out of his paws but that didn't stop the two glass minotaurs from charging at Taurus. Sadly, the massive bull spun around, swinging his other lamppost and shattering them instantly. In that moment, Caleb seized the post around his neck and channelled his power through it.

Just as Taurus turned, Caleb swung the lamppost staff in his paws at the bull, causing an explosion of blinding light that only affected his foes. Taurus let out a loud shout, clutching his eyes and staggering back. Caleb drove the head of the staff right into the bull's exposed crotch and dove for Branding Iron. He swiped the weapon off the ground...

And just as he did, the diamond coating around the enormous sword began to dissipate.

"No! No!" he cried.

Right before his eyes, the enormous blade began to crumble, the diamond shards drifting lazily into the air. He only had a few seconds before Taurus was back up. He had to make the last few moments where he still had the enormous sword count!

He swung -

WHUMP!

"Dirty trick, kid," growled Taurus, a massive paw crushing Caleb's wrist. "But I'm faster, stronger and meatier than you. Even that low blow won't keep me down for long." He tightened his grip, making Caleb cry out and drop his sword.

"You know what I'm going to do?" snarled the bull, reaching up and gripping the edge of Caleb's hood. "I'm going to take this off and then hold you up for the whole world to see. That way, everyone will know who Weapons Master really is before I rip you into a hundred -"

Taurus stopped... his beady black eyes gazing at Caleb's left shoulder.

There was a strange... pressure there.

Slowly, Caleb followed the bull's gaze... and found himself staring at the features of a bird... a bird made completely out of diamond. It inclined its head at Caleb inquisitively... as if requesting permission.

Caleb gave one nod.

Suddenly, the bird leapt off his shoulder, its wings making a soft, musical chirping noise as the diamonds rubbed against one another.

"What the -?" began Taurus, following the trail of the bird. It ducked somewhere behind Caleb, somewhere Caleb couldn't see. But the bull could and whatever he saw, scared the shit out of him. "Jesus Wolf Christ!!"

Taurus threw Caleb down and turned, leaping into the air in horror. Caleb gasped, clutching his wrist. Suddenly, the air was filled with the same chirping noise from the bird. All sounds of fighting ended and the sky was swarmed with hundreds upon _hundreds_of diamond birds. They shattered what little light came through the storm clouds into a dazzling array of lights all the while forming a single, organic column that shot straight after the fleeing Taurus.

"Shit..." Caleb whispered. "Did I do that?"

"Not quite."

He jerked to the left. To his right stood the black-clad Arcturus, the wolf's eyes a milky white.

"You provided the materials," the Hound of Death said, "I merely took hold of dissipating diamonds, infused them with power and now control them." The Hound waved his paw. The column of birds suddenly split into two columns, one continuing the chase while the other shot elsewhere. "Your level of control over a regenerating weapon seems to grow with repeated use and seems to reset every time it evolves."

Arcturus suddenly let out a soft bark. Caleb thought it was a laugh. "Sorry, 'metamorphosis'. This means that after your weapon changes, it's basically back to the basics and everything relies purely on your instincts. Your instincts control the weapon but the more you use it, the more you consciously control it."

High above them, Taurus suddenly froze as the second column of diamond birds came rushing at him from in front. Behind him, the first kept charging, catching him in a pincer manoeuvre. He didn't have time to react as the birds just _collided_with him, becoming a swarm of spinning, razor-sharp diamonds.

"Instinct versus control," Arcturus mused quietly to himself, his eyes losing the white glow and returning to their usual blue. "Subconscious versus conscious. It seems to be the topic of discussion for all factions involved. One side wants more control over instincts, restricting it to those who possess the innate ability and capacity to control. The other wishes to unlock instinct and spread it widely with little or no control. Then... there are the Outsiders who stand somewhere in the middle."

He Hound of Death turned around. The storm suddenly dissipated, allowing the afternoon sun to shine through. Above them, the diamond birds lost their shape and form, raining down at the ground as tiny, crystal flames. Amongst them was the limp shape of Taurus, plummeting the ground bloodied and cut.

"Why'd you come help?" Caleb asked, grimacing as he stood up. "You've never helped us before... And Taurus... You killed him. I thought you couldn't do that...?"

"He is not dead. His time is not yet up. Observe."

A massive shape rocketed up from the ground and immediately caught the falling bull. It looked like Stampede. Chaos once again began down below. Caleb rushed to the edge of the police station. Shockstorm and Siren were desperately trying to keep the bulls back with bolts of lightning and lashes of ice. The Outsiders - barring Bren - were fighting alongside them. However, it looked like the majority of the bovines had lost their courage and were rapidly retreating. There was no sign of Spit Roast or Bullhorn though there was evidence that they were here.

"As the Hound of Death, I am charged with presiding over death," Arcturus said. "That entails both acting upon it and preventing it. While I cannot kill, I can carry souls to the afterlife. At the same time, while I cannot truly save, I can empower others to save. If I had not intervened, Shockstorm and Siren would have slaughtered countless bovines as they grew desperate. Bren's death gave them the push they needed to justify killing. The Alliance will not kill unless it is necessary."

"But Bren can't really die!"

"The public does not know that," Arcturus said, pointing at the approaching hovercopters. "Though they have seen him die time and again, the FBI have not released any statements on the fact and to them, every Bren that dies is a real person. The merciless Shockstorm and Siren knows this. They will not be blamed for killing escaped victims who were given a chance at reform but chose to cause a death instead especially when the death belongs to an American who served his country."

Caleb groaned. "Public relations is hard."

"Living is harder," Arcturus answered, resting a paw on Caleb's shoulder. "Remember this, Caleb Hale, every person has the capacity to kill _and_save at the same time."

The Hound of Death gazed down at the masses of bovines in total disarray. "The choice falls upon them to take."

*****

Lester had waited until Emerson Wills and the other survivors underwent process before ducking away and disappearing into the massive media frenzy. He was small so it was easy to disappear. He knew it was all for show though. The Alliance or Outsiders had no idea how the infection spread and the scenes in the police station probably just confused them even more.

Was it through infectious cum?

Maybe the tattoos? But how did Al get a tattoo?

It was a joyous moment because he had achieved exactly what he had sought to achieve... even if it wasn't exactly how he had initially planned.

Five blocks away, in a secluded alleyway, his lieutenants were waiting. Taurus looked like hell but then again, he had just been torn apart by Weapons Master. Certainly that particular Outsider was the most dangerous of them all. Still, the bull was recovering. He was a Gen 2, after all.

"Report," Lester demanded.

"The patsies are taking the blame," grinned Spit Roast, meaning all the Gen 1s. "They're still after us but they'll have their hands full with those guys first."

"Good. And Weapons Master?"

Taurus spat, blood mixed with his spittle. "Asshole has another weapon. Power over glass or diamond. Not sure. It's hard as fuck. Not sure where it came from or what it's related to but it could summon glass bulls... I think he may have obtained the genetic material off one of the Gen 1s."

That worried Lester. He didn't want Weapons Master obtaining his strain's form. He had seen the level of power the hooded canine had with the Gnoll Strain Weapon and judging by what happened out there, if he grew even stronger _and_obtained the Minos Form, he would be unstoppable. He had to accelerate his plans a little.

"What about you?" Bullhorn asked. "Did you get him?"

Lester smirked. "Of course. He's my 'friend' now. Survivors of a Gene Stealer attack, after all. I told him I really had 'nowhere to go' and he offered me his place." His eyes glinted evilly. "Not to mention I tagged him."

"Think he'll spill the beans?"

Minos shook his head. "No. He may be a bleeding heart philanthropist but he's scared just like everyone else. He won't tell." His grin grew broader. "Well... he won't tell anyone except for a trusted friend that understands."