FSE

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An early noon of chipper spirit did not expect the tale that would unfold that day. On a farm, isolated in itself from even the nearby village, was a peaceful solitude of a tiny community. Owned by the affluent and eccentric professor who had swept in only weeks ago when the actual farmers fell upon hard times, the farm was comprised of several acres, with a small river which ran along its back. The main yard, whilst dusty and well-trodden, served as a hub for all who lived there. A small cottage sat opposite the farmhouse, divided between the well that had long since been replaced by the newly fitted pump not a few feet away - the professor had insisted to the farmer that they keep it, if merely for the aesthetics. The disgruntled man had been gruff, but consented nonetheless to keep the feature. The farmer and his wife lived with their kids in the farmhouse - the bigger of the two homes - and worked tirelessly day and night on the land. A mutual arrangement had been brought about whereby the professor continued to rent the farm to the farmer, who worked the fields and tended to the animals, all for his cut and share. The professor remained the sole owner, but he kept to himself and seldom bothered anyone. But Stephen Browning was the exception to that rule.

Stephen was by no means an outgoing individual. He, much like his superior, was reserved and quiet in his nature. As all things to the professor, he deemed himself his personal assistant, though the roles of his employment extended far beyond that. He was a butler, an aide, a cleaner, a cook, a driver, a tailor, a run-around... Everything thinkable for a servant to do and that was what Stephen must undertake. His outward appearance suggested as much that he was not akin to taking charge; he had a lithe figure, matched with a build that did not infer any muscle. His hair was cut short, swayed to one side perhaps, but unassuming with a fair lush brown. His face was smooth, not accustomed to neither stubble nor wisps of hair, and looked well placed given his slight stature of barely scraping halfway between five and six feet. His clothes were cheap, naturally, but fitted him well so that he might blend in against the professor's side. The teaching tweed and bedraggled shirts made him look very much like the offspring of the wiser man, but he was no such thing. In fact, Stephen was barely aware of the fact that his parents were dead, struck by the nasty diseases that ran rampant in the cities. Living in such a newly industrialised place came with its dangers, and unhygienic conditions would have ultimately led to Stephen's passing too were it not for the sheer luck of proving himself a diligent and resourceful urchin. He might have compared his and the professor's first encounter to something of a perfect moment in his head were he a fanatic, but it was quite the opposite; the professor had beaten him to within an inch of his life and bought the boy when he was just reaching the cusp of his teenage years, and steadily through the months Stephen had earned back the respect of his employer and regained a slither of his freedom to remind him what he worked towards. Just under half a decade more of servitude, and then Stephen would be finally free, aged at just over twenty-one and with a passable education under his belt.

Not that the lad knew what he wanted. He was still torn between the subordinate life he'd grown accustomed to and the prospect of breaking free and finally exploring a world beyond the one he'd known. He feared the unknown and what it might bring, as much as he was terrified of himself for all the dark, treacherous thoughts that pervaded his behaviour. Much like now, how he found himself battling with the hot and heavy weight against him, trapped between a wall of sweaty, hay-reeking muscle and the door to the cloakroom. Stephen panted with a delectable sound, clearly enthralled with the feel of another male pressed so closely against his half-bared skin. His shirt had been opened at some point, most likely by the heavy hands that now roamed the peachy flesh of his torso. Stephen broke away, if only for moment, as he sucked in a deep intake of air, filling his lungs with suffocating musk that drove him insatiable and frightened.

He leant his head back, tapping his scalp against the wood, as he looked at his lover for a moment. Adam was the farm's stable hand, the nephew of the farmer himself and hired for his natural size and powerful skills. The beast could slug two hay bales over each shoulder whilst a common man could struggle with just the one. Often did rumours spread of his strength, escalating to a point where it was claimed he could take down the raging stud bull with his bare hands - though Stephen, despite it being a rumour, full well believed this. He boasted of his talents often, not shying away from the fact his only asset was his power, and took to keeping himself in fighting form. He was adept though at the common farming tasks, and took a special kindness to tending the horses and cows. They seemed to be infatuated with him as much as Stephen was, and were compliant whenever he came to address their needs. He would shoe them, muck them out, pick clean their hooves, brush their coats, saddle them up and rein them; he was very much their sole guardian, and Adam didn't take to having strangers or even fellow peers serving them. Of course this had built him into a powerhouse with the grace and size of a bull himself; he stood proudly at six feet and seven inches, having to stoop and even crouch for doors, and his tanned body rippled with the endless hours of labour. His face was set within a thick jaw which angled rather well, if not primitively, the features of his expression. His eyes Stephen had found most interesting though. Whilst most had taken Adam to be a grunt and nothing more, they had not accounted for the shy intelligence that stayed locked behind the bright blue eyes. Stephen, in much of their liaisons, had questioned why the man did not loosen up more and try and educate himself, but Adam had dismissed the queries as nonsense, stating he preferred the rigorous work of the body to the mild musings of the mind.

Adam did not wish to go slow though. His attention did not allow for much romance though there were definite attempts; he sampled the sweet taste of Stephen's neck, suckling tightly and making the young male groan with flustered desire. A dark patch formed where Adam's lips nibbled, the signs of lovemaking showing themselves against the rosy skin. These blemishes were added upon until Stephen could take no more and pushed his palms against the broad of Adam's shoulders, forcing back the thickened blades. The man leant back, huffing himself as he too found he was short of breath. They tumbled further, slamming open the door that led to the backroom where the professor kept his antiquities. It served mostly as a drawing room, somewhere the professor might come to smoke and gander for a book to read or an artefact to study. He filled it with an assortment of fineries; an ornate desk shipped from China, an American bald eagle with its wings outstretched - stuffed upon its perch that sat in the corner of the room and overlooked the dusting scene. Further sat a cabinet, brought from London and made of varnished pine and pristine glass; behinds its doors lay a china collection so finely painted and hand-crafted that they looked as fragile as a butterflies delicate wings, and just as pale and clean as a lady's handkerchief. An assortment of other furniture tied the room together, with a chaise longue draping itself in arrogant quietness across one length before the fireplace, whilst ornaments and trinkets dotted themselves about the room. Adam, being the only seeing individual in the couple's copulation, saw what was to offer for sturdiness and made for the professor's desk. It was free of clutter and files, left empty by Stephen's handiwork every morning upon breakfast for the man. Save for the odd ornament like a statuette and a glass orb that imbued a serene light, only a few artefacts were sat upon the dressed-up table, and so with only but a little care he pushed Stephen back onto it, lifting him up so that those tight cheeks, groped beneath his grubby hands, now rested upon the lip of the desk.

Clothes were quickly scrabbled at. Adam made short work of his, dressed simply in a pair of overalls and a ragged, sweaty and quite filthy cotton shirt which he immediately drew over his head once Stephen was safely sat down. He kept himself firmly between the smaller male's legs, however, spreading them apart against his impressive thighs. His chest bulged and jostled as he tossed aside the shirt, the hem catching upon the eagle's head and draping there as much a child might throw away their blanket when disinterested with it. Stephen fumbled at the buttons to his own shirt, the finer clothing needing just a second more to pull off. He gave up after the third button, lifting the whole thing up with two hands until it came free. It fell back behind him, forced to let go before he could place it anywhere as Adam's hands ensnared themselves about the soft flesh oh his chest once more, two large fingers taking between them a pert nipple each. They idly flicked and rubbed them to attention, finding themselves a task to do whilst Stephen shook off the buckle of his belt, freeing the slack on his trousers and letting them fall. They crumpled to the floor into a heap, leaving Stephen exposed - exposed and vulnerable, in nothing but his underwear. Adam growled in deep appreciation, shuffling his feet to let his overalls fall to the floor too so that he might join his lover in their nakedness.

Stephen's skin was smooth and sleek to the touch. He boasted nothing of any masculinity, but neither attributed himself to anything of the feminine form. Whilst he acknowledged he lacked any definition, he prided himself of being hairless with the retention of youth; these appealing factors that Adam deemed cute would drive him wild. He knew that the man was accustomed to seeing many a man attempt to justify themselves through their bodies to equal one another, much like Adam contended with his uncle and fellow cousins, but Stephen offered a new perspective, one where the male form appeared so sensual and exotic. The attendant made sure he always delivered what Adam desperately sought, just as much he required a certain taste from Adam in return; whilst Stephen's body was slender and pale in colour, Adam had earned himself a darkened tan, the rewards of slaving outside in the beating sun. His chest was smothered in a thick coat of hair, with a dark trail that ran from the heavy patch on his chest, between the pectorals, down to his navel. It was a rich colour, and just as soft and springy to the fingertips. It led down to completely revealed crotch of the farm hand. It was common knowledge that the majority of those who laboured the land avoided such garments for practicality, and Stephen was only aware of the unseen monster's radiating heat that warmed the air beneath his buttocks. He could not see past the edge of the desk, but he knew too well what awaited him down there. His legs wrapped themselves about Adam's waist, the heels digging into the firm fuzzy cheeks of his own behind.

Their lips met once more, tongues dancing between one another as their bodies closed in around themselves. The chill of the room bit down onto their skin, but neither paid any attention as they began to get lost within the heat of the moment - sufficient enough to warm their needs through the cold of an April afternoon. The professor was out, and seldom was their time for the two of them to engage in such sordid affairs that would surely take them to the gallows for their sins. A homosexual relation was forbidden, to the point where it was as illegal as it was to kill, and treated just as harshly. Their secret ordeals had to take place when not a soul could see them. Today was one of those times, a rare instance in which both of them, pent up from the lack of intimacy and satisfaction, could ravage one another in the solitude that was granted them. The professor might return shortly though, as much as Stephen was well aware of the fact, so this was to be quick and lusty, powered by the drive of urgent desire. Hands groped and delved against another's body, working away into a throe of need that would soon call upon more intrusive actions. Adam was panting, barely restraining himself as he let his sweating hands grasp impatiently at the thin fabric which held away what he wanted. He tugged with very little care, prising off them last remaining article of clothing until it came free and thumped to the ground. Stephen's bulge was revealed, his hardening cock bouncing into the air and slapping against the smoothness of his abdomen. Adam gripped it within a single hand, encasing the full length and grinding his palm against the most sensitive areas. It made the man beneath him squirm with harsh pleasure that failed to justify itself between uncomfortable pain and impossible delight. Stephen groaned now, finally becoming vocal as he murmured his blissful distress against Adam's lips.

This carried on for precious seconds until Stephen once more had to stop the heady lover from making him release too early. He entwined his fingers between those of Adam's drawing his hand away from his groin and bringing it up to his cheek. The farm hand seemed to get the message, taking it now upon himself to brush tenderly and delicately along the soft jaw and pure cheek of Stephen. Meanwhile, now free to enact his own revenge, the smaller male reached down between his legs, past his member and towards where he thought Adam's hidden manhood ought to be.. His hand stroked along something thickened and engorged, yet fleshy and warm to the touch; he snaked his fingers around this girth, unable quite to fully hold it within a single hand and began to rub back and forth along an impressive size that swelled hotly. He dragged his fingers across the tip, causing Adam to grunt happily, a smile peeling across his mouth as they kissed, and droplets of pre spat and oozed across Stephen's petite hand. He brought up soldier to attention, finally unveiling to the half-light the package Adam had been gifted with. It was a terrifying size, both in its width and length. Even now, despite having acquainted himself with it many a time, Stephen still found himself gulping from the nerves. His anticipation prickled along his skin, like straw was being dragged across every inch, much like Adam's hair tickled along the finesse of his body. He squeezed it gently, testing the firmness, and it throbbed back as though alive, eager to reciprocate and relish itself. Those fingertips brought the slickness down the shaft, feeling the moistness slip between his fingers and soaking along the flesh.

"Baby... I need ta fuck ya..."

He was never quite the romantic. He tried, but he was too brutish to know the details of a true romance. But Stephen didn't care for the pleasantries of flowers or courting. They were farces, a waste of time, and he wanted nothing to do with them. They were for ladies with waists thinner than a pencil, whose faces were as white as freshly fallen snow but drawn out to be as long as a horse's. Ladies with dainty parasols that did nothing for their elegance; they were for ladies, and Stephen was no lady, no matter how many times he submitted his inner most depths to the man that now breathed heavily over him.

Adam pulled back, grappling his hands against Stephen's cold ankles as he hoisted them over each of his broad shoulders. Still with the solid grip around the man's giant, the smaller of the two swallowed a small gulp again. His stomach was a chaotic mess of anxiety and anticipation. It was as though a thousand frayed wires were electrifying his body, wound up tightly in a strewn ball that sat just inside his abdomen. They coiled themselves up his spine as the tip of that bludgeon met his entrance. The searing heat was impossible to ignore, and he could feel the wetness press against his winking hole. It begged an audience deeper inside him, pleading for entry to be allowed. Adam pushed insistently forwards, gradually introducing a little more force with a little more length. With a grit of his teeth, Stephen fought through the sharp and swift flare of pain, as the tip became the head, sucked in by the undulating muscles of his depths. They pulled him deeper, further, down into Stephen's inner most places, the thick meat grinding along such sensitive walls with the grace of a rock slide. He gasped and whined aloud, his head thrown back as he could only lean back and watch as slowly, with careful persistence, a length seemingly unbelievable to fit just about any more made its home within his roomy behind. He bit his lip, much to Adam's lusting delight, and moaned just like the good bitch that he wanted, surrendering fully to the mighty cock that was reshaping his gut. It took many long minutes, filled with huffs of determination and arousal until finally with a soft scrape Adam's hairy balls found themselves nestled rather nicely against the base of Stephen's cleft. His full length now impaled the smaller male, and Adam gave himself a testing throb, sending a jolt of pleasure through his system as that tight ring clenched around his dick with surprising strength for something so accustomed to the welcome invader.

It took them a moment's rest to gain their breath back. Both their bodies were covered in a thin sheen of sweat, the exertion having brought about much warranted patience within them. They knew just as well as the other that they were capable of taking what was on offer, but they went slow nonetheless for fear they might cause harm to each other, and risk exposing themselves to a doctor who was less than appeasing and who disregarded his Hippocratic oath. Adam ground his teeth in frustration, his foot stamping at the floor much like any irritated stallion might do, as Stephen painstakingly became relaxed to the size that now accommodated his arse. The enveloping warmth and lewd moistness was a certain factor which drove the farm hand insane, though he did his best to keep his demeanour calmed and not to let loose his load too soon. Stephen was panting softly, his gentle chest rising and falling in shallow breaths as he let whatever discomfort abate and subside into oblivion. He nodded, carefully, and gave the all clear to Adam, who clawed at Stephen's hip with both his beefy hands. He took control there and then, beginning to draw back his crotch, taking that monster with him. The male whimpered in the sensations, lost as his guts were fucked. Adam set up a brutal pace, nothing quite as subtle as one might play a violin, teasing the strings slowly and gingerly, taking the tune to higher levels. No, Adam was very much like a machine; his hips were a piston, and he maintained a cruel and steady speed that refused to relent. It was his signature move, and Stephen, when in the moment, craved it nothing more than anything else in the world - even though he regretted it wholeheartedly after when he couldn't quite walk right or sit properly for a week.

In and out that piston drove, riding Stephen hard as though he were just another part of the machine, that he'd become one into Adam's assembly, and Adam was the conductor, who chose the speeds and the intensity. Never did it falter, and never did it slow; only it went faster and harder and deeper. Stephen grunted with the force, feeling his cock shudder and shake, as hard as he's ever been, and leaking a steady stream down across his navel. His hands found themselves gripping at Adam's shoulder blades and with what strength remained in him, he drew the male closer, so that he swam in the heavy scent and was covered in the weight of a bulkier male. He longed to feel this, to feel the true submission he could gain from no other relation. A woman could not make him reach this high, and no man had to date ever succeeded in triumphing over his darkest wants and needs. Adam was just that though, the darkest man he'd found, and they had evolved over the few months together to become perfect lovers for one another. The farm hand groaned with a gruff guttural tone, howling very much nearly as that pucker squeezed and massaged the entirety of his length as it slid in and out through those moulding walls. They had been, at first, rough and unyielding, but their many liaisons, impromptu as they were, had now left Stephen with a smooth finish; it was like sliding between neatly folded sheets on a freshly lain bed, tucked in as tightly as possible yet still just so silky slick. It was a heavenly hole, and he fucked with gusto. Pumping his hips, they both knew the signs. Adam's thrusts became shorter in their length, though if anything they become just as deep, and just as forceful. Stephen could feel himself slipping, being fucked well and truly into the desk as he clung to Adam's body with all he could. That coarse hair ground against his own hairless and sticky chest, that rough beard suckling at his tender neck once more. Together their moans became cacophonous, louder and exultant as though they were screeching to some unknown deity. Stephen cried out Adam's name with an unbridled ferocity that accompanied the onslaught of his orgasm, tipped over the edge by a powerful rutting, leaving his prostate but a mashed, swollen and shivering pulp within himself. Thick ribbons of cum shot out across his chest, splattering against Adam's own, covering themselves between the two of them; Stephen groped as best he could, riding out the terrifying length of his orgasm as Adam was still not yet quite finished. The hulking beast continued to hammer that last inch, refusing to give up until, with a rising roar, he bellowed out. A gloopy river of cum, searing and hot, wormed its way into his gut, working through the ironed-out tunnel of his hole and settling within the furthest most reaches of his ass. Adam growled, biting down lightly upon the tenderised neck-flesh, showing a true sign of animalistic dominance as he pumped his few jets of warm baby-batter into the cooing male.

Adam collapsed his full weight on top of Stephen, neither caring now as both were exhausted and finally free of their lust for but a few more days. They breathed in giant takes of musky air, as though they had returned from a great hike that had drained them of their vitality. The smell of their rutting permeated the room, replacing the once muted mustiness with a stronger, potent concoction of virulent male cum, sweat, and any such fluids that might have splurged free of Stephen's now stretched and quite slickened hole. They're pants fall out of tune, one huffing before the other as, gradually, they recuperated their strength. Clumsily, Adam propped himself back up onto his palms, his heavy chest heaving less and less and the sweat from his brow had abated to nothing but a mere smear of dirt. Stephen himself had managed to gain back his strength to lift his own weight, his ass sore and now aching with the brutalised ebbs that now travelling along his spine. It was a welcome sensation, though one he knew would plague him for the rest of the day, and one he would have to hide away as best he could.

"That was fuckin' 'ot!" Adam grinned, earning him a hiss from Stephen who put a finger to the brute's lips to silence him quickly,

"Do ya want someone ta hear?!" Stephen said, glancing towards the door and then the window. Adam looked wounded and guilty, but he didn't say anything. The smaller male instantly felt bad, but Adam would soon get over it. With little grace, and with his cock now softening, Adam pulled himself free from Stephen's backside, resulting in a slick wet pop. Stephen whimpered, blushing hard as his first instinct was to push the load of cum out of his ass. His pucker squeezed, spluttering as thick globs of seed leaked from within. Adam took a more devilish approach, and with two sizeable fingers he probed the well-fucked hole gently and teasingly, kissing Stephen along the neck as he fingered back in the jizz before letting it seep back out.

"Urrf..." Stephen couldn't help but moan, lowing in the feeling of being toyed with like a personal trinket.

"That feel good, baby?" Adam brought his fingers up to his lips and sampled a taste of himself, leaving barely a trace left of his rutting.

"Just... just 'elp me up..." Stephen winced and forced himself to calm down from Adam's post-carnal loving. With a shrug and just a smear of cum left as remnant on his lips, Adam offered a beefy hand for him to lift himself up with. The two locked hands together, and Stephen slipped off the desk.

But he stumbled, and his free hand shot out to steady himself. As he did so, it smacked into the opaque crystal globe, something otherwise so insignificant and purposelessly ordinary that Stephen might have overlooked it. It skipped free of its stand, rolled leisurely to the lip of the desk before falling off the edge. It fell with a dull thud, and for a moment Stephen was prepared to breathe a sigh of relief. Prepared, were it not for the ghastly and frightening red light that then flooded the room.

"What did ya do?!" Adam snapped irritably, hiding desperately the fear in his voice, "The master'll 'ave yer 'ead!" Stephen rabbled with his clothes, hastily putting them on in slapdash fashion so that they might resemble their former immaculacy.

"Shut up, will you!" He dropped down into a crouch, peering around the corner of the desk to look upon what he feared for the most. The orb, still intact, had slipped to a gradual stop not too far away, but instead of simply being lit up in a soft, misty glow of murky white it now shone with an intense and ferocious crimson. It seemed to ebb threateningly, as though it was forewarning of some danger. Stephen, daring what he felt he could, tapped the sphere with a single digit, making a clink as his nail hit the glass. It seemed harmless enough...

"Fuck... what do we do?" He growled, picking up the orb with two hands and examining every inch of it, looking for some reason as to its sudden change, "What the fuck is wrong with it?!"

"What do we do?" Adam parroted incredulously, "What do ya mean 'we'? Ya were the one who broke it!"

"Yes, but how do ya think I'm gonna explain it to the professor when he gets back?!" Stephen looked up from the orb, his expression frantic, his tone mocking that of an English gentleman, "'Oh, sorry I broke yer artefact; I was just getting' bred up the arse by the stable 'and! Care to 'ave a go?!'" Adam held up his hands in defeat, nervousness returning to his face compared to indignation,

"Alright, alright, I see yer point." He watched the orb's dilations, the red growing then receding. It was morbidly mesmerising, as though it were a living spectacle dragged up from the depths of the ocean, or plucked from the great starry expanse itself.

"Alright... Alright..." Stephen paced back across the study, rolling the orb about in his palms, "I need to go get rid of this, make sure the professor never finds it. I'll go dump it in the river so it'll get washed downstream an' 'opefully it'll get smashed on the rocks. Ya need to go make yerself scarce an' then go delay the professor so it gives me some time. I'll just tell the prof that I accidentally smashed it an' deal with the flack." Adam nodded, fixing them both upon a plan. The farm hand began quickly gathering his things, slinging them on as he made for the door,

"Ya better 'ope this works, baby - I don't wanna get lynched fer bein' queer."

Stephen just watched him leave, a little stung that Adam had put his security before his feelings, but he pushed those niggling thoughts aside. Present matters must first be dealt with before he showed any sign of bitterness. With a flourish of his hands, he threw and caught the ball as one might casually toss an apple. He let the minute pass before he, like Adam before him, scurried out of the study and towards the front door.

Outside was quiet enough for morning; Stephen poked his head out and glanced about the farm yard to make sure the coast was absolutely clear. He stuffed the orb into a satchel that hung off a coat stand and slung the worn bag around his torso. All he had to do was make it across the yard and then across the field, past the stables and barn and then he was to the dip where the river cut by. A simple enough task, though eagle eyes would watch him undoubtedly from kitchen windows and through sidelong looks. In a tight knit community the deviation from the normal was typically noted, hence why Adam would only meet him in the safety of some enclosed and abandoned space.

Stephen looked at the orb that glowed with a dark red hue from deep within the bag - he had no choice. He slipped out of the door and shut it softly behind him and straightened out his apparel. Then, as calmly as he could muster, he walked across the dusty yard. His eyes flitted to either side, often turning to glance behind him to make sure nobody had slunk their way out to scrutinise his presence. Adam had made his way to the stables, as he might have guessed, and worked their now as inconspicuously as he could. He tried his best to look not the slightest bit rattled, but he was failing with utter disgrace. Stephen watched as the man swabbed at his head feverishly with a sodden rag, his eyes nervous and flitting like a fawn might hours after its birth; he looked very much out of place and incredibly uncomfortable.

With a shrug and exasperated sigh, Stephen strode onwards, quickening his pace so as to arouse any suspicion. The professor could be back at any moment, and the farm had yet to fully awaken, so any moment now people would soon be mulling about after an early bitter breakfast of off-tasting porridge with the consistency of sludge. He didn't have the time to dally about being skittish at every nook and cranny.

Stephen cleared the yard and swept his way past the barn and stables which were somewhat fairly a distance away, enough to leave him in a grassy clearing where typically the livestock would first graze. The grass, whilst relatively short, was long enough to creep up to his shins and slice against his trousers. The morning dew made his clothes damp and they clung to his heated skin with much irritation. Soon though, after a few more steps, this became too much and Stephen growled at himself and squatted down to ruffle his clothes back to how they were. He set the bag down in the strands of grass and swatted at the moist fabric.

A quiet clang caught him in his tracks, a sound that had come from the bag, and he turned to look at what had happened. The satchel was empty, but what if something metallic had broken the glass? Would anything bad happen if something got out of the orb?

Hastily, Stephen snatched at the bag and unfurled the flap, looking inside with great caution. The red glow shone out and nothing appeared to be damaged. Gingerly he reached inside and cupped the sphere in one hand, lifting it out gently and precariously balancing it in the air. Nothing was leaking, at the very least, and the light seemed only to intensify in direct sunlight, so that was promising. Stephen held it aloft, looking underneath the orb to see if there were any breaks along its lower portion but everything appeared to be in pristine order.

That was when red turned to green.

The orb suddenly swirled, as though a liquid inside had been broken into the reaction, and the red began to cloud to lurid neon green. This new light ebbed and swayed against the crimson until the redness had vanished, leaving behind this worrying new development. Stephen dropped the orb in panic, suddenly fearful now he'd done something to worsen the situation; he expected the artefact to slump onto the floor and bounce along the wet grass, but instead it stopped just shy of the ground by about a few inches, hovering there and unmoving. Stephen edged away, genuine terror now rising up his throat and adding to the bile he desperately swallowed back down.

He staggered back, nearly tripping up several times but retreating all the same to what he deemed a safe distance, just stood at the cusp of the yard. All the while this orb took it upon itself to rise upwards, slowly, moving away from the ground with absolute vertical precision. It was just about passing the height of the common man when Adam yelled from across the yard, backing away himself to an even further distance,

"What the 'ell did ya do?!" His voice was shrill with fear. Stephen had no explanation for what had happened. He was completely out of his depth; this was beyond any sentiment of normal science he had grown accustomed to. He knew not what this demonic creation was, and part of him was terrified of finding out. Instead he stood there gormlessly, frozen and unspeaking as he watched this orb glow brighter and brighter.

Then, as if by its sudden nature it was compelled to act illogically, just past where the animals were sheltered alongside the barn; he watched the ether itself pluck apart in smoky strings as the ring seemed to thin, stretching wide until it hurled itself back into the orb. Clumps of earth and grass were ripped from the very ground and sucked upward as though caught in a vortex and oddly taken into the mass of the orb, disappearing and melting into its clouded surface until not a speck of dirt remained. All objects appeared to be caught in this drag, being sucked towards the floating sphere b unseen hands that clawed them back.

With dumbstruck and morbid fascination, Stephen stood fixed and watched as this force ripped apart the wood and building work of the structure to the stables, the barn, and all else. The fragments of the debris were gulped up by the green orb, swallowed whole but with no remains, and gradually the sphere grew larger. Its mass increased with each mouthful it took of whatever was within its vicinity, bulging and swelling like an obscene beast. Overhead storm clouds grew, lighting striking upwards and away from the orb as though instead it was giving off the energy, not the air itself. The winds whipped into something akin to a hurricane, spiralling about this fixed point and darkening the skies to the point of near-pitch. The animals, braying and snorting in agitated terror and anxiety were caught within the grasp of the vacuum; with little effort they began to get dragged towards the orb. Once at the point where their own strength wasn't enough to hold them back, they lost traction and hurled violently about in the suction in orbiting circles. They were incapable of saving themselves, taken into the orb just as they were giving the final pitiful cries that could be heard for miles, right up until they were presently silenced with a final mute. Stephen watched on, horrified that such an atrocity had occurred, and he scalded himself for not trying to rescue them. But how could he fight something so ungodlike? What possible earthly means did he have of countering the work of devils?

Once the orb had churned up all it could within the small circle it had made, it began to glow again, and Stephen finally found the courage to act. He turned to flee, knowing that he was about to see a repeat of the nightmare that had just unfolded before his very eyes, and he had no desire to become absorbed by the depraved sphere. He sprinted with all the power he could muster, scrabbling to get away as he ran away. Above him the ring flared again, wider and brighter this time, shooting past him as beginning to thin and fray far ahead. Frightened, Stephen looked at the only other person who could witness this at the time, spying Adam who had kept his distance with just as much revulsion on his face as Stephen himself had had. They both knew what was about to happen, and in the final moments where action could be taken Adam lunged forward in an attempt to grab Stephen's outstretched hand - there fingers barely touched before the sparking smoke ring slammed back into the orb, cracking with a loud explosion that reverberated through the air.

Stephen felt the tugs lightly at first, clawing up along his legs before they began to pull and yank at every part of his body. He felt his weight and strength become useless as his feet began to clear the ground, no longer touching the earth, pulled backwards the way he had just tried to escape from.

He screamed, panicking in clear distress as he pleaded for help, tumbling back along the dusty yard, back towards the grassy meadow where the orb hung above now. It was about the size of a carriage at present, continuously swelling and swirling about it a string of water it had plucked from the river, rocks dashing about in a chaotic spiral before all were sucked inside, adding to its mass. Stephen clung to what he could, a fence post, a trail of rope, some outcropping rocks; anything to gain purchase and not ultimately get sucked in himself. But his grips were weak, and anything he grabbed a hold of was already itself being pulled from its roots and drawn back to the orb. All the small man could do was watch with bitter and distressed resignation as the orb drew near, his body now completely free of the ground by a few feet. He cried out, a soft whimper as he accepted his death and he called out to Adam in one last bid to declare his truest feelings before...

Adam was stricken with stomach-curdling grief, staring on as Stephen's body went limp the instant it was drawn into the flesh of the orb; his limbs folded in on his torso, and gradually he was claimed from view. His face, quite lifeless but as though in a state of sleep, was the last thing to be taken until that too was absorbed into the glassed surface. Adam never saw him again. The man, now alone, roared in anguish and screamed until he was sure he'd make his throat bleed. He did not try to run. He knew, inevitably, that a third ring would come, and if did not flee now then he too would meet a similar fate. But what was the point? The only man he'd ever loved - he ever could love - was dead, taken by some infernal gift of a demon and never to be seen again. Adam wept openly, abandoning all pretence of being seemingly unconnected and bellowed out in a pitiful voice for his baby. All he wanted was his sweetheart to hold close, and now the words came streaming forth with little to hold them back. How he loved him, how he had never wanted to admit it; he was a sorry scene with no happy outcome.

"What did you do?"

Adam wheeled round, looking up with a weeping face and glared vehemently at the sight of the professor; he was a well-dressed man, adorned in fineries of a pleasant suit that might have cost more than the stable hands salary, if ever he had one. He sported a full head of thick black hair, combed backwards along his scalp with mutton chops and a moustache to boot. A frail and lanky man, he did not account to anything resembling a physical presence, but Adam knew from tales he'd listen to from Stephen that if he were given an hour to speak he could put any intellectual to shame. He stood there now, looking out across the scene of the farm as it was slowly ripped to shreds and swallowed by the orb, pulled in a clean circle from around it. The lush field it had been sitting in now lay barren, almost a crater as the particles of dirt sucked upwards in the rushing force. He spoke so softly, as though not even paying heed to the crying man at all. His eyes were shocked, possibly even mortified he might have said were it not for his calm demeanour. Adam looked from him back to the orb, words stuttering and failing to be coherent,

"I... We were just..." He looked up miserably; near once more to the point of bursting out into another wave of tears, "It was an accident... We didn't mean ta, and then he got caught and it ate 'im... It just... ate 'im..."

"You stupid humans..." The professor spoke absently, striding a little past Adam so that he stood between him and the scene that was playing out, "I never asked much of you, all except for one simple thing. Keep out of my study. Yet you always go and do stupid things..." The professor's long, bony fingers snatched and snagged at Adam's collar suddenly, heaving him up with startling strength and pointing him in the direction of the desolation, "This is on you! The pair of you! You did this..." He threw Adam away, letting him collapse back to the floor in pathetic sobs of despair as he was still trapped in the throes of grief. His voice returned to its passive and eerily soft tone again, "You've practically ended the world..."

"I'm sorry... I didn't want 'im ta die..." He pounded the ground in tear-stained rage, battering his fist against the rocks until his knuckles bled, "I loved 'im; d'you think I _wanted_this ta 'appen?! What the 'ell is 'appening?!"

Once more the professor appeared to take no attention, reaching into his pocket and drawing out a clear green slab about the size of his hand. He held it in front of himself, tapping the glass; lights appeared and spread across the surface and formed what looked to be pictures, moving images that flitted across the green glass with such speed. Adam, though rocked by horror and misery, still found himself marvelling at whatever unholy thing the professor held in his hand,

"There's still time... If I can get the crew to oscillate a triternal frequency we can divert any more excess zetonic radiation..." His words were foul and unnatural - Adam found his anger rising once more, as ignorance gave way to rage, "But we'd have to let the egg reach minimum capacity so as to trick the protocols, make it think it's taken all it can and will stop the absorption process. Hopefully that'll be enough... hopefully..."

"Tell me!" Adam thundered, staggering to his feet and throwing himself into the professor's face. He swatted aside the unnatural glass he held and grasped at the man's chest, scrunching up the shirt and balling it up in his giant fist, "What are ya?!"

"I... my name is Professor Kreela, I'm an expeditionary scientist, not of your world..." He pushed Adam away, looking over his shoulder and speaking with haste - the ring was charging, "From a distant planet; we were sent to retrieve the orb before it had a chance to form." From another world? How could there be another? Priests always preached of God creating Earth and nothing more than this sole inhabited place. Adam was unaware that life beyond this world even existed. Granted, he had thought the world was much smaller until it was pointed out to him other countries shared his planet, but he struggled with great complication to understand what the professor was saying. Why wasn't he telling him about Stephen?

"Chance ta form... form into what?" His voice was numb, even to himself.

"It's... it's like a terraformer." Adam's face remained clueless, and the professor, this Professor Kreela... tried again to iterate his point, "Sort of... an incubator, something that keeps things alive; something like that?" Adam seemed to grasp the concept, though with difficulty, "Well, our planet was dying, so we needed a new world where we could start again, for my people. We sent out these incubators - the orbs - to find optimal orbits around suns and then to broadcast back the coordinates so that we may teleport directly to our new home..." He pointed behind Adam, gesturing worriedly to the orb that now shone like an emerald caught within the shattered rays of the sun, "We've managed to recover one so far, and this was the second we've found. But it's damaged, I think... Something's corrupted in its core. Broken, if you will, and I was keeping it down here to scan it to see if it was safe enough to transport." Now he pointed upwards, towards the darkening stormy skies, "My ship is up there, like a boat, though it flies through the air; much more sophisticated than those 'biplanes' or yours..." The professor shook his head, patting at Adam's chest and attempted to push him away, away from the orb, "But you must go! Go now, before you too get absorbed."

"Absorbed...?" Adam looked lost, his eyes tired and wet. The professor sighed,

"Drawn into the device... your physical being taken apart atom by atom until all that is left is the basic elements. Your genome is all the orb needs, a genome to copy and recreate into a new species, identical very much so to the ancestral coding." He rubbed his chin, scratching at his face, "To put it indelicately, your body is recycled."

"'Recycled'...?" Why were these words so wrong and unreal? He spoke with fluent, even eloquent English, yet half the words he said were as though they were from another language. Perhaps they literally were. Adam would never have known... He had no grasp of the situation, and he found himself reeling in his own naivety, "Ya mean... 'e's going ta be reborn, is that what yer saying?"

"Well, no..." The professor flustered with an exasperated huff, hesitating for a moment, "His genes... It's his genes! They will be reused and reconstructed to form new strains of life... He won't simply come back. You won't ever get him to come back; it doesn't work like that. Besides..." he added, "The statistics are improbable. It's very nearly impossible!" Adam stumbled to his feet, a fresh light falling onto his face,

"Ya said 'very nearly'..." This slip of the professor's tongue, as unnatural as he spoke, was all Adam really needed. Though he was not smart, least of all equipped with much common sense, but he was a man of faith that believed the world worked in ways that had to surely be out of anyone's control. Driven by an arrogant and flawed logic, he clung in obsession to it, "That means there's a slim chance, right?!"

"Well, yes... But the chances are one in a hundred trillion... Maybe more..." He turned and looked at the orb, whose ring was now beginning to expand again, hurtling towards them. The professor mumbled to himself, clearly in a frantic state, "Too late now, the cycle is reaching its peak. We'll have to find a new orbit and dump the egg - won't last in stasis forever on board... Yes, that's the only way. Too late to save any of them now; this'll just have to run its course. Naturally we'd have to monitor the planet too or else it'd turn into a galactic disaster, help it through its growth process until its stable enough to last on its own... We don't want the high command having our heads for another dead world."

"Those are good enough odds fer me. I've made up ma mind." Adam was resolute. His voice was firm and unyielding. Gone was the childish fear and whimpering animal, and what stood now was a man with a determined vision of reuniting with a lover who was lost in odds and statistics. But Adam was not a smart man, so therefore numbers meant nothing to him. He had faith and heart, and it would be those two things, spurred on for his love of Stephen, that would let them be together again in whatever form was deemed for them. The professor, some extra-terrestrial being, looked at him with saddened but weakened eyes,

"If you wish to sacrifice yourself to the egg, then by all means do it, but this is your last warning; the chances of you two ever meeting again is impossible. It's utter stupidity. You will never remember him. You'll become nothing but matter and codes. Nothing more; if you think for even one second right here, right now, that you'll come out the other end of this unharmed and as you are now then you are a greater fool than I took you to be." He pushed Adam's shoulder so that he faced him, "Are you sure that this..." He pointed to the orb as it destroyed the world around it, a forbidden monster sent from the heavens by men who appeared not as gods but mortals, "...is what you want?" It was then, at that point, mere moments away from his destruction, that Adam said probably the most intelligent and thoughtful thing he'd ever managed to say,

"Even if 'e and I don't meet again, life without 'im ain't worth living; I'd rather meet the same fate as 'im and meet 'im in 'eaven, thank ya kindly."

The professor nodded, unhappy that Adam had committed himself to voluntary suicide, but he let him go all the same. He lifted back up the panel of glass and tapped a glowing red circle in the uppermost right corner before speaking clearly after a dulled tone rang,

"Captain Traem, I'm ready to be warped." Another little beep, something to signify an acknowledgement of the command; the professor said nothing as he looked on Adam with a pitiful expression, tainted with a hint of believed superiority though commended with courage. Adam returned the stare with defiance, puffing out his chest and making sure to mask his fear. After all, his affair with Stephen had turned him into a master of keeping secrets from others.

In a blinding flash of green light, the professor's form began to disintegrate into singular dots that coalesced and throbbed along the contours of his body. They drew out lines like an intricate and sophisticated net. Adam had seen nothing like it before, though he could only relate the sight to those of which he'd seen down by the docks, when fishermen brought in their catch. This grid spread across the professor's body, gradually becoming more defined until the image of the professor himself dimmed to nothing but a silhouette. It was as though a ghostly shadow now stood in his place, copying the small actions and fidgets he did before the grid began to draw inwards. It pulled itself up into a single point in an implosion until a tiny pinprick of white-hot light remained, flaring briefly until it dissipated. Adam noted idly that it was quite similar to the fashion of the orb's energy, but had been harnessed in a much more refined way. The stable hand, in his mild thoughts, did not pay it much heed for he would not attempt to understand something when he was in the futility of his death. The ring had shot past him now overhead, encompassing all the land around the farm, and he looked skyward as the smokes launched back to the sphere.

He waited, watching that which lay nearest to the sphere begin to be pulled up from their foundations, torn apart into shrapnel and strewn in a vortex; Adam began to feel the gentle pull on his limbs at first, the feeling growing steadily stronger. He had to resist the urge to struggle and fight back, denying his primal flight or fight instinct to take over. His body was allowed to relaxed, falling loosely as he was drawn into the air by unseen powers and then sucked towards the orb. As he drew nearer to the centre of destruction, the eye of the storm, he saw about him the true decimation of what was happening. The pull had drawn onto the farm house, and the occupants inside were already being dragged screaming into the orb. Common household items floated in the swirling vortex as though they were being sucked down an upside drain. Adam wished that they might have been able to escape if they truly wished, gloomily watching as children who were barely a few years of age had their lives brought to an ultimate end quickly as they were taken by the orb's clutches. They were just kids, not even understanding in the disaster, in their only state of innocence, but still the orb was unrelenting had took no specifics. Even the animals, now encompassing the entire farm and beyond into the forests and meadows, were consumed and never seen again. Adam, though given a few moments in his slow ascent, was terrified of what might lay onward in his life, and secretly in his heart he willed his faith to serve him right. Quietly, he closed his eyes and wished for a life again with Stephen, a better life in which circumstances would be better. He wished for a life where Adam would not be afraid to say 'I love you' to the man he knew in his heart he loved fully. He did not know what the future would hold for either of them, whether his sheer will to beat the odds would be enough, but he was not aware that he was about to become the integral beginnings of a new world, one that would form itself billions of miles away across the galaxy - far away from the source of Earth where only echoes could reach.

His existence was wiped from the Earth before he had a chance to say goodbye to it.