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Chapter IV: Feeling a little Grizzly

Cameras were everywhere. Flashes exploded from all directions with the silhouettes of reporters beckoning for attention. Microphones were shoved above the police line with questions being fired from every mouth and muzzle available. The topic that was blazing through the evening news was the latest Gene Stealer strain.

"Weapons Master! Weapons Master! What can you tell us about this newest strain?"

"Feral Steel! Can you comment on the fact that it took all of Arsenal_and three fully fledged supers to defeat this localised outbreak?"_

"Why is the Alliance and Arsenal_being reactive? What is being done to prevent these outbreaks?"_

Amongst the demands for answers he didn't have and photographs being taken, Caleb back in wolf form hung back behind his father and the two supers of the Alliance. With media training on their side, they easily quelled the crowd. For once, Caleb didn't mind being the pup.

"Let me assure you," Feral Steel said, "that everything in our power is being done to ensure that this outbreak and the impending threat of this new Gene Stealer strain is minimised as much as possible."

Lance immediately chimed in, displaying a confidence that he always seemed to hold back in the household. "We were very lucky only that the poor souls within this restaurant and the few policemen and women who served to the bitter end were infected. Let me remind you that in the first Minos outbreak, we lost more people to the strain with much more collateral damage on the streets. In the second, we lost an entire police precinct and in the third, a large portion of the island was devastated. I believe that it says a lot about not only the Alliance's diligence but also Arsenal's ability that this outbreak was contained as well as it was."

There was a sheen of pride in David's stance as Lance effectively shot down all the controversy hunters within the crowd. No doubt there would be some loon that would spin his words out of context and make both teams look bad but even Caleb believed that they had done exceptionally well. Even though deep in his heart he feared the rapid leap in the Gene Stealer's grunts, he was reassured somewhat.

"Does this mean the Alliance is officially working with Arsenal on this endeavour?" asked a reporter.

"There is no formal agreement between the two parties," Feral Steel answered. "Just the agreement that we both aim to keep West California Island and indeed the world safe from these madmen who seek to effectively rape a person's identity." To prove his devotion to his words, David Hale folded his ears back and spoke with a growl. "It doesn't matter whether or not you're a super or an Outsider. The Gene Stealers are a threat. This is war. There will be casualties. But you have my word that we will do everything we can to minimise them and return the identity to those who had their so brutally and underhandedly stolen."

More questions were fielded as the reporters grew tired of the stock-standard responses the supers were giving. Many were trying to urge some of the others to step forward but Caleb wasn't willing to open his muzzle. His mind was still on the latest strain and their newfound ability to have a sort of baseline superpower. Not just regeneration, speed or strength. An actual _supernatural_ability.

When his father beckoned him and the others over for some photos, he knew the media frenzy was almost over. He stood, smiled and waved. The few police that had been spared stepped up and thanked him and the others for their work. It was well into one in the morning when they finally started to have some reprieve.

A small fox who looked too small for his fur, wearing a brown reporter's cap and looking a little scruffy approached them. The police line had begun to disperse and none of the other major media reps gave the vulpine a second thought as he pulled out a notepad. Caleb feared those bright, green eyes were levelled at him. Being a predator at heart, he knew the fox was just watching him warily only seeking to pass by. He let the vulpine pass him without comment and the small reporter scurried over to where Lance and Cory were talking.

A sigh of relief passed , him and Caleb moved towards Ballistic. Mary was waiting beside his bike, her car parked next to it.

"It's worrying, isn't it?" she said, a frown on her features. "Here we are, fighting back and reacting to their experiments while in the shadows, they only continue to grow stronger and stronger." Mary shook her head, eyes cast into the distance. "It makes you wonder why they even bother with these little outbreaks. Why not just kidnap people off the streets and perform their experiments on them?"

"Because the Gene Stealers are megalomaniacal sociopaths that want to sew chaos as much as progress their twisted agenda?" Caleb offered.

"That's just the thing." She pushed off Ballistic and crossed the five steps it took to get to her car. "What is their agenda? Are these outbreaks part of it? Or are they just random bursts of evil?"

The metallic scent of blood filled his nostrils mixed with the familiar scent of Ben. He glanced to his right and found Blood Wolf approaching with a scowl on his muzzle.

"Fucking supers and their glory hogging," the werewolf growled. "I have half a mind to jump in there and tell them that it's not just the fucking Alliance that's backing Arsenal." He shook his head though his ears remained folded back. "And you're right, BB. Coming from experience, this smells like the bastards are toying with us. I mean, Originals should be rare, right? In the past four months, we've taken down two and from our track record, we're set to take down a third. You'd think they'd be worried."

Blood Wolf crossed his arms and huffed loudly. "The Alpha Pack is doing their own scouting. There's stirring in the criminal underworld. People are starting to talk about a second Gene War."

Caleb straightened, taking a deep breath through his muzzle. Even Mary paled at the mention of the catastrophic war between furs and humans that made radical genetic alterations like the ones the Gene Stealers were committing illegal.

"Exactly what are they saying?" Mary asked.

"Supervillains are getting pretty fed up of being beaten," Ben responded. "Many of them are thinking about joining the Gene Stealers. My dad has a few contacts who have claimed to have come in contact with either Dragon Knight or Spider Queen. Apparently, Spider Queen has offered to infect these super powered villains with an Original Strain. Dragon Knight is adamantly against it. Never gave a reason why." Ben shuffled from one foot to the other. "Sounds like dissent amongst the ranks."

Caleb exchanged glanced with Mary, sharing the same thought. "That's just how those two are," he responded grimly. "Spider Queen is all about toying with emotions and offering false hope, spinning you into her web. Dragon Knight is straight forward. We know from dealing with their Thralls." He gave a short laugh. "It's funny though. Their infection methods are almost the opposite."

"I wouldn't consider the Gene Stealers anywhere near perfecting the ability to infect supers," Mary chimed in. "If they have that ability, why even bother with all these small fry? Why bother with Reacher?" Again, she shook her head. "It doesn't make any sense at all."

Ben snorted softly. "I guess that's the thing when you're against a bad guy. You never find out the end game until the end." A soft laugh escaped his lupine muzzle and he ran a paw through his blood-red hair. "Kind of humbling being on the receiving end for once."

Caleb smiled at his 'villainous' friend and elbowed his ribs lightly. "Is the Pack still okay with you officially running around with a 'hero team'?"

"Not really," Ben responded with a shrug. "Some are a little concerned that it might ruin the Pack's image, like we're getting soft or something. A few other Alphas have tried to muscle in on our territory but they're just werewolves. No superpowers." He smiled over at Caleb, looking almost friendly without that constant predatory stare in his eyes. "My dad actually wants to see if you'll come for a visit again." His eyes went to Mary. "All of you. He feels that in this partnership, we should be spending as much time in the Facility as in our manor."

"That sounds like a great idea!" Mary exclaimed. "When?"

"How about tomorrow after the game?"

Caleb recalled his promise to Gabe and began an apology when a shout erupted from behind him. He turned in time to see Lance picking up the vulpine in one, massive paw while Cory was desperately trying to get him the back down. What few media people were left instantly spun and began taking pictures.

"Fang!" Caleb shouted, marching over. "Put him down!"

Lance's eyes were wide in fury as his big, meaty paws began crushing the vulpine's throat. "Not until he takes it back!"

"Takes what back?" His eyes switched to the vulpine. "What did you ask?"

The fox, barely able to breathe and respond, let out a choking gasp and a squeak. "I - I just asked if he was a top or a bottom!"

"You called me a bottom because the big guy is always the bottom!" Lance roared, shaking his victim.

Fighting the urge to point out that he was a bottom, Caleb said, "Shaking his brains out isn't going to solve anything. Put him down."

Lance snarled and half-tossed, half-dumped the vulpine on the ground. Caleb helped the male to his feet and reached down to pick up the discarded notepad. It was marked stationary from a magazine called 'GUYS'.

"Thank you," the reported said, watching Lance warily. Flashes from cameras were already sparking around them as reporters began crowding around Lance and started demanding more information on his personal life. The towering Feral Fang snorted in the vulpine reporter's direction, his breath condensing in front of his nostrils before turning towards the other reporters to ease the issue.

"What kind of news outlet asks a super if they're a top or bottom?" Caleb asked, slowly pulling his rescued reporter away from the crowd and out of Lance's reach.

"GUYS," came the answer. The fox patted himself down. "We're a homosexual news group specifically geared towards gay men. We write about the hottest places for a gay guy to hang out, breaking news for homos like me and write tips and tricks for the bed." He shook his head and sighed heavily. "But I'm not a fad writer like that." He balled his black fists tightly. "I want to write hard-hitting news. Ground breaking stuff that could change the world and make people feel."

The male, who looked about in his mid-thirties with greying temples, slumped his shoulders heavily. "But there's no news like that. Almost makes me wish for the days before the arrival of furs when being gay was basically a death sentence. At least then there'd be news that I could write about that could change the world."

Lifting his eyebrows, Caleb said, "Why not just write about something else? I mean there's the Gene Stealer threat. The reformations to the Outsiders. Hell, I heard that that they're going to fly over some Outsider experts from Australia all over the States to give lectures and stuff."

The vulpine gave him an exasperated look. "Is that all you can talk about? Supers and villains?" Regret flashed across the fox's expression and he winced loudly. "Sorry... sorry. It's just been... a long day, that's all. I was _hoping_this would be my last chance but..." He checked his watch. "I've been up all night and I have about five hours to get an article on my boss' desk or I'll be out a job."

"What?" Caleb asked, his jaw half-open.

The male shook his head. "Don't worry about it, Kid. You've got enough problems on your plate than worrying about me." He smiled at Caleb bravely, holding out a paw. "My name's Hank, by the way. Hank Frankfurter."

"Hank Frankfurter, huh?" Caleb replied, shaking the man's slimmer paw. "I bet you got a lot of jokes about that at school."

Hank shrugged absently, smiling softly. "I did. People kept referring to my 'frankfurter' and whatever. Little did they know I liked other guy's frankfurters better," he said with an exasperated grin before he shoved his paws in his pockets. "Anyway, thanks for the rescue Weapons Master. I appreciate it."

A flash from a nearby reporter caught his attention. The man grinned and waved at him before bolting back to the slew of media around Lance and Feral Steel. Damage control wasn't going too well. A spark of rebellion hit Caleb and a devious thought crossed his mind. His phone suddenly rang and he checked it.

Mary.

Glancing over his shoulder, he saw where Mary and Ben where hastily waving at him, making slicing motions across their necks as if to tell him to stop. He smirked at them, wiggling his phone in his paws. He made a show of switching it off and quickly hurried over to despondent.

"Hey Hank, wait up."

The vulpine's ears perked up. "Yeah?"

Caleb clapped a paw around the male shoulders and leaned down. "What if I told you I could help you with your problem?"

Hank's brown eyes brightened with honest hope. "You mean you have a story for me? Maybe about how Feral Fang deals with being a homosexual in the Tower? I've heard that it's fairly brutal. Or perhaps how he met that roo?"

At the mention of Cory, Caleb made a little wince. "Actually, I was thinking more about me..."

Hank smiled at him and shook his head. "Thanks but I love my job and I'm adamant about my subject matter. It's what I'm passionate about. It's what I want to write about. Even if it means I won't eat, I'm not going to write trash, blow out gossip or speculate about bullshit just to get by."

"Great!" he replied with a grin. "Sounds like we're off to a great start!"

Hank's brow furrowed and his muzzle opened for a moment as if to ask a question. Then his eyes widened and his jaw dropped in shock. "You mean to say... you're...?"

"I like frankfurters too."

The reporter blinked several times and glanced over his shoulder at the media frenzy that was still occurring. "Wow... my gaydar is _way_off..." His eyes lifted towards Caleb. "You're not just doing as a form of charity, is it? I've got a reputation and a lot of integrity, you know."

Grinning, Caleb said, "You're right. I need more exposure apart from just the Gene Stealers and the Outsiders. Besides..." His eyes briefly flicked over to where his father was standing, quelling the crowd. "... I was once told that to help Arsenal, we need to make ourselves more marketable. What better way than GUYS?"

******

"CALEB HALE!"

Despite having only about four and a half hours of sleep, Caleb practically leapt off his bed with a spring in his step. His father's shout was the best wakeup call he had ever had and though that made him feel a little terrible, he couldn't deny the butterflies in his stomach as he heard his David Hale's heavy footsteps storming up the stairs.

His phone rang and he picked it up, pressing it to his ear without checking to see who it was.

"So... What do you want on your tombstone?" Mary asked.

He mulled it over. "How about, 'Totally worth it?'"

His door burst open, his dad standing there, fangs bared and heaving in fury. In one paw, he held a tablet with a rather lengthy article from a bright red magazine, the title GUYS on the header.

"What the hell is this!?" David roared.

The rest of the family poked their heads around the corner of his doorframe as David stormed in and threw the tablet at Caleb's bed. Picking up the tablet absently, Caleb regarded the article. He was a little disappointed that it didn't make front page or the centre spread. It was a quarter of a page, however. The hit counter for the particular article was going up as he watched.

"Wow, Hank works fast."

"Hank!?" David shouted. "Hank!? Who is Hank!?"

"Oh he's the guy that accosted Lance last night. I had coffee with him after the event and we got to talking."

"And you told him Weapons Master is gay!?"

Abby let out a loud 'Oooooo', granting her a foul stare from David. She immediately ducked away, no doubt to find her own tablet and check out the article.

"Why not?" Caleb responded with a shrug. "I mean, it can only help, right? Now Weapons Master has more exposure." His phone beeped and he picked it up. It was an email from Hank filtered through secure FBI screening so that it went to the official Weapons Master email that he had created last night with Bren's help but it would be impossible to trace it to his phone. "And he says that his boss is really interested in meeting me. Wants to talk about making Weapons Master the official face of GUYS and doing a photo shoot."

"Are you insane!?" David shouted. "Caleb, there's good press and there's bad press. This... this is just-"

"A good idea."

The patriarch of the Hale household spun, jaw slack in shock as Lillian Hale sauntered in with a benevolent smile on her face. "I think it'll do a great deal for Arsenal's image that they are now being more public. There have been murmurings about the lack of press with them and people don't trust what they don't know about. The team's credibility was severely damaged when you slandered them continuously, dear." Her eyes were laser-like and jabbing into David.

Unwilling to back down, David gestured at Caleb. "But he's going to be the face of a gay male interest magazine! With the parental filters off, they post pornographic content! There's an hour and a half video of Brad Clooney and Orlando Seacrest being interviewed that ends in them having sex!"

Leon suddenly piped up. "How do you know, dad?"

The fiery stare given to the eldest twin caused Leon to whimper and slowly slink away.

"I am not going to have my son have sex on camera! I know other supers do it and I'll admit to having considered it briefly before but not him! Not Caleb!"

"Dad," Caleb said, lifting his paws. "I haven't agreed to anything or signed any contracts. If it makes you feel any better, you can be there when I meet Hank's boss. You can review the contract and negotiate the terms."

David, still fuming, said, "What was going through your head!?"

He had been practicing his response the entire night. "I thought that it'd be a good idea to get me some more exposure and if I have a standing contract with a media outlet, it could actually help bolster our funds. I mean, every time I get a new form, don't you think the media will be all over who gets to interview Weapons Master in his new body?"

A quick glance at his mother and the way she flicked her ears at him reminded him he had forgotten something.

"And," he continued, "if I have an open relationship with the media, it shows everyone that I have nothing to hide. That Arsenal has nothing to hide. We won't be that 'shadowy Outsider vigilante group' anymore."

Grumbling, David's hackles slowly lowered and he pulled back his snarl. "I suppose... And I guess such an open magazine would help dispel the mystery around the group..." He threw his paws into the air. "Okay, fine. But no more stunts like this, got it?" He jabbed a finger at Caleb. "I want to be consulted whenever you deal with the media. You haven't had media training yet." A quick glance at Lance and the other twin whimpered. "You have to keep it professional. Keep your personal life guarded or they'll tear you apart."

"Sure thing, dad. I promise I'll keep it professional."

"Good. I'll sign you up for media training after the game today. You better not slack off, got it? I already gave you today as a break from training."

"Got it."

David left with a huff and growled at the twins, even letting out a short bark and caused both boys to immediately dart away. Only Lillian Hale was left with Caleb and she sat down beside him on his bed, a knowing smirk on her muzzle.

"That went a lot better than I would've thought," Caleb said in a whisper.

"No need to whisper, dear," she said with a smile. "I'm pretty sure your father already suspects that I helped you prepare your speech last night and gave you advice on how to proceed." She reached over to him and took the tablet. "Your friend Hank writes very well. Nothing scandalous at all. Though I imagine in a few hours once the world actually wakes up, you and your father will be getting calls, emails and demands for interviews based on this little 'reveal'."

A door slammed somewhere downstairs and he guessed that was his dad going outside for some fresh air. "He sounds mad."

"He is," Lillian chuckled softly. "I suspect I'll be the bottom tonight." She wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly. "Don't worry about him, Caleb. He's just worried about you but deep down, I think he's just afraid that you and he are a lot alike and that you'll make the same mistakes and decisions he did."

Caleb looked up at his mother curiously. "We're alike? Really?"

She laughed and held him at arm's length. "More than you know. He had his rebellious streak too and trust me, it was pretty bad from what he told me. Remember, your grandparents didn't like supers at all and it was a thrill for him to flaunt his superpowers to his friends when he could. Then, during his days as an actual super here on the Island, he loved the media coverage and... well... let's just say that he had quite the following."

"You mean internet porn and fanfiction?" he asked.

"I have them archived in a locked folder on my tablet if you want to see them. They're divided into gender categories if you're after just one particular genre."

Laughing softly, he said, "I'm alright, mom." Curious what else he had in common with his father, he said, "Did dad ever express himself creatively in any way? I mean, what did he do in his free time? He didn't hit the gym all the time, did he?"

She giggled. "No. I pushed your father to the gym." Reaching into her pocket, she retrieved her wallet and pulled it open. She took out an old digital photograph showing the family, including Caleb when he was a pup, sitting on David's knee with a big, toothy grin. With one claw, she traced a strange pattern on the surface and the image immediately changed. "This is what he looked like before I got my claws in him."

The Feral Steel in the image was much thinner than the present day Steel. He was still athletically built but the V-shaped torso wasn't visible and his arms were nowhere near as bulgy. The cape he wore looked oversized and his thick fur looked too big and fluffy or his body.

"Wow..." Caleb murmured.

"Your father is still a freelance writer at heart and though he has his job as Feral Steel, he still likes to write. His stories are still online but they aren't exactly... kid friendly."

Lifting his eyebrows, Caleb began to realise that his father was probably just as horny as he had been... especially if he was posting pornographic stories online to let off some creative steam. The parallels were a little uncanny especially since he drew while David wrote.

"Does he still...?"

"When he thinks I'm not looking," Lillian said with a wink. "For some reason, it embarrasses him to no end when I catch him writing about man-on-man action. It's really the only thing he can write. Female roles he can create well enough but I do believe he feels like he's sharing our intimate relationships if he were to write a sex scene between a man and a woman online."

"What about a girl-on-girl action?"

Lillian laughed softly. "He tried once and he asked me to described what sex was for me but he just could not understand." Smiling softly, she gave Caleb one more hug. "Anyway, get ready for breakfast and school. You've got a big game tonight."

The butterflies in his stomach continued for the rest of the morning, keeping him awake as he showered and scarfed down his breakfast which was double the size for him because he had the game. All the kids on the table had their tablets out and when David wasn't looking, they all switched to the article Hank had written about Weapons Master.

There was nothing incriminating about the column and it was written as a personal one-on-one interview between a reporter and what would probably be the first outwardly gay Outsider in the States. Hank sung Caleb's praises on his skills on the field and mentioned the wolf's bravery for making the announcement. The reporter even went so far as to call Caleb modest and down-to-earth, pointing out how he liked to keep things as simple as possible. He remembered saying the words quoted on the headline of the article, 'I like things simple and I figure coming out will do just that. I won't hide that part of my life because it doesn't matter.'

During breakfast, he got all sorts of texts from Mary, Bren, Lars, Ashton and even Elliot. All were different tones but he decided to leave it all until he got to school. Once he had brushed his fangs, he hurried downstairs and jumped on Ballistic, heading straight to West California High School. A pang of disappointment hit him as the news on everyone's lips was the fear of the new 'Bear Strain'. Second on the pecking order of news was Lance's assault on a reporter which was brushed off as a 'moment of stress'. Third was Jennifer Hathaway's marriage to George Ford. Only after all those topics were exhausted did anyone mention Weapons Master being gay.

He expected all the girls to show signs of defeat as the lupine Outsider now only showed interest in men. Strangely, that seemed to only heighten his sex appeal as their fantasies about him in the arms of another muscular super came closer to reality. Even straight guys on the football team joked that it would be totally hot to see Weapons Master doing another guy.

Of course, that meant someone eventually drew a certain bizarre conclusion.

"Holy shit, Hale's WM's BF!" Ralph exclaimed as the team gathered at the bus. It was an away game at the Canterbury Meadows High field and packing a group of pumped up footballers in a bus to a game always led to some sort of talk and gossip.

"What?" Caleb exclaimed. "You guys are nuts! I ain't dating no Outsider!"

"Got something against Outsiders, Halestorm?" grunted Gerard who leaned forward from the seat behind him.

"Nope. Hell, I could get off to WM's rock hard abs any day." He was enjoying the fact that the statement was actually quite true. "All I'm saying is I'm not dating Weapons Master."

"Then who are you dating?" Gerard pressed. "Come on, Hale. Who are you fucking?"

Knowing full well what he said next would be essential, Caleb wisely said, "It ain't you, G. That's all you need to know."

"Fuck yeah it ain't me!" roared the moose, flexing his massive biceps. "I'm a stud! I ain't gonna lift my tail for anyone!"

Ralph rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Like you call that little fluff nugget a tail."

"What!?" Gerard shouted.

Ralph clasped his paws together and pressed them against his cheeks. "Awww, what's wrong, Gerry? Isn't that little, fluffy ball over your chubby little ass meant to be cute and cuddly?"

Caleb was effectively away from the firing line as the two defensive players began verbally assaulting one another. He chuckled softly and glanced over to Lars who sat beside him but hadn't even flicked an ear at the conversation. Once again, Lars was engrossed in his script. Opening night was a week away and the poor Doberman was clearly stressed. He was gripping his tablet so tightly that it looked almost ready to break.

Cautious of the close proximity of the other guys around him, he gripped Lars' shoulder and shook it mildly. The canine started and gave him a puzzled stare as if he had just woken up.

"Mind on the game, bro," he said.

Lars pursed his lips and nodded. "Right... Right. Mind on the game." The hunky quarterback took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Shit... I feel like I'm about to hit the field again for the first time." His paws were shaking. "I remember being so scared when I went out there. I kept wondering what would happen if I wasn't good enough or if I did something... stupid. Eventually, it all became second nature, you know? But this..." He slapped his tablet with the back of his paw. "This... This isn't in my element."

Caleb gave his possible-perhaps-maybe-boyfriend a curious stare. "How did you know you had a killer voice then? You must've practiced a hell of a lot and you sang that song at the auditions without referring to the sheets."

Lars blushed beneath his deep, brown fur. "I like karaoke. My parents got me a machine when I was ten. Inbuilt virtual judges and all. That's how I practiced. Les Miserables is my all time favourite." In a whisper, he said, "Mostly because of Hugh Jackman."

Lifting an eyebrow, Caleb asked, "Wolverine?"

Bobbing his head from side to side, Lars said, "Well, yeah. But before he fell through a rip in time and space and was merged with the persona he had played on screen for years, he was an actor. Played my role in a movie rendition of Les Miserables."

"So Wolverine is your idol?" Caleb asked with a smile.

Lars' eyes wandered away. "You could say that." When the big Doberman's paw moved to adjust his crotch, those words took a new meaning.

Glad to have known a little more about Lars, he sat back and waited until they rolled up to Canterbury Meadows High School. The school was bigger than West California High and as such, they had a bigger stadium and bigger, more modern facilities. The stadium could fit double of how much West Cali's stadium could and the lockers were made of a special alloy that prevented them from being smashed by frustrated players. When Caleb made to open his locker, he marvelled as the door just crumbled to dust in front of him. Once he made to close it, the door rematerialized bringing into mind how his locker back home still swung on a hinge.

Caleb jammed on his helmet and lined up with the rest of the offensive line. When he saw his dad walk by, he gulped loudly, fearful that he would end up being jammed into the defensive line again outside of his element. Thankfully, no such move was made and he breathed a sigh of relief.

The regular pre-game speech was given by Coach Davison.

"Who are we!?" Davison concluded.

"Raptors!" everyone shouted. "Raptors! Raptors! Raptors!"

They spun and marched onto the field, the offense was first. Caleb took up his position tail wagging excitedly as all the troubles of the world vanished and everything just became about football. The cheer of the crowd, the snarl of the bull hovering in front of him, Lars' commands from behind and the lights blazing down upon them.

Lars shouted and Caleb jerked to the left. His opponent went right instead. The bull's tail had revealed which side he was going to charge. Caleb bolted down the field. Lars threw the ball, the brown and white projectile soaring through the air with expert precision. Caleb's danger senses began to tingle and he glanced to his left and right, spying two members of the opposing team moving in for the intercept. There was no way he would catch the ball intact.

Unless...

A grin crossed his features as he continued his charge. From down the field, he could see Coach Davison shouting for him to stop but he saw his father grinning. That small gesture of pride filled his legs with renewed strength and he moved to exactly the right spot where the ball would land, about ten seconds before it landed. Both opposing players charged at him like bulldozers and before they hit...

He ducked and jerked back.

Both players slammed into one another and fell to the ground in a tangled mess. Caleb reached over them both with a grin. He gave the two guys a mocking salute before bolting down the rest of the field to make the first play of the game and the first touchdown.

He spiked the ball and let out his touchdown howl to the cheer of the crowd.

"Halestorm! Halestorm! Halestorm!"

With the improved moves of the defence and the unusual tactics they were displaying, West California High was sweeping up the points. By halftime, it was a crushing 51 to 16, favouring the West California Raptors.

Caleb was glad to see Lars back in his element and thoroughly enjoying himself. He bumped shoulders with the pumped, sweaty Doberman, the two of them sharing a grin that meant more than just two teammates knowing that victory was assure. It took all of his willpower not to bring Lars into a kiss there and then.

Suddenly, the crowd let out a loud gasp and a deathly silence fell upon the group.

The defensive team was on and the officials were blowing their whistles, shouting for an illegal move.

Caleb was instantly on his feet. On the screens, the replay showed a hulking rhino slamming into Ralph Nakamura, head lowered and his horn jabbing right into Ralph's ribs. All horned players needed to have their horns or tusks capped to prevent serious injury. Even Gerard needed to be careful with his antlers and it was illegal for any fur with horns to 'go for a gore' as the term was coined. But the frustration of the defence's toying plays and the extending lead probably started to get to the opposing team.

Caleb was amongst the other players who were charging down the field to Ralph who was clutching his side. There was blood between the lion's fingers. Even a capped horn could cause serious injury if applied with enough force. He knelt beside the injured lion as Lars and the other Raptors advanced on the rhino who looked down at Ralph with a smirk.

"Ralph," he said, tearing off the lion's helmet. "Are you alright? Speak to me, man."

Grinning through a wince, Ralph said, "Tried the Hitman Play..." He winced again. "Bad idea."

The Hitman Play... the move where the centre would try to hit on the opposing tackle loudly enough to stun the entire defensive line. Clearly, the rhino had taken more offense to it than intended.

"You stupid fuck," Caleb laughed softly as the medics arrived. "Coach said not to use that play."

Ralph laughed softly. "Yeah. I know. Worth a shot, though." As he was lifted onto a gurney, he thrust a fist into the air, a big grin on his face. "Avenge me comrades!" To add to his joking manner, he pointed straight at Gerard. "Hey G, you owe me a fucking date!"

What would have been a disheartening moment as the defensive captain was being hauled away only proved to inspire everyone more. Caleb grinned and marched back to where his dad was watching the field closely.

"I may need to put you in place of Nakamura," David said. "They need a strong leader out there."

Caleb briefly watched his dad, wondering if his father's agenda had always been to make a leader out of him. Feeling a bit rebellious again, he turned back towards the field as the backup for Ralph marched in. "They can take care of themselves."

"Are you sure?"

"Something we learned from our previous games," he said with a smile. "We shouldn't rely just on one person to make the day. Ralph and I made sure that everyone is up to speed and can make any play."

He caught his father's soft smile. "Let's see if that paid off."

The final score was a crushing 76 - 25.

******

David Hale pulled the handbrake on the family van. He killed the engine and adjusted his tie.

"I seriously think this is a bad idea," he murmured.

"Come on, dad," Caleb said with a smile. "The Alpha Pack are some pretty cool people." After David gave him a pointed stare, he appended his statement with, "Okay, so they dabble in larceny, forgery, bribery and a bit of murder but really, compared to other supervillains, they're decent." He reached over and gripped his father's wrist. "Plus, they're our allies in this, remember? We need to play nice with them."

David grumbled and adjusted his cufflinks. "I should've brought your mother. She's better a negotiating and talking than I am."

Seeing the nervous side to Feral Steel was a little comforting. "You're just the guy that hits things?"

"I do more than that," David grunted, adjusting his face mask. "How do I look?"

"You're fine, dad. The Pack already knows your identity and mine through Ben. If they wanted to do something against us, they'd have done so already."

"Right. They're allies for so long as the Gene Stealers are a threat. But what after? What can we do against them when your mother, sister and brother are at risk?"

Caleb smiled and pushed open the door to the family van. "Dad, we know their identities as well. The Pack knows that in the face of global justice, they can't risk moving against us. Just like we can't move against them because we need their help against the Gene Stealers."

David huffed loudly and opened his door. The elder Hale froze when a valet met him. When asked if he would like their van parked, he glanced over at Caleb who gestured at him to let the werewolf valet take it.

"Alright, fine..." He dropped the keys into the momentarily human's gloved hands. "But if I find one bug on it, I'll tear you inside out."

"Understood, sir," the valet replied dryly.

Caleb shook his head and came to stand beside his dad. "You've got to relax. We're not here as enemies. We're here as the Connors' guest for their little get together."

"Then why are we both dressed up?" David snarled, tugging at his tuxedo. "I hate tuxedos. Most impractical attire in the world."

"You know what's even more impractical?"

"What?"

Caleb reached over to his father, plucking the facemask away. "A piece of metal or plastic that hides your eyes and cheekbones." He tucked the mask away as his father attempted to vainly reach for it. "Come on, dad. Live a little."

"That'll be hard to do when we're dead..." grumbled David as Caleb led them up the steps to the Connors' manor.

Two doormen greeted them and they pushed open the doors revealing a room bathed in gentle golden light. The entire Alpha Pack was gathered in the atrium, dressed in finery from billowing, velvety evening gowns to sharp looking tuxedos and suits. Their eyes were all on the young white wolf with scarlet eyes standing on a hovering tabletop, dancing to some music reminiscent of ancient medieval tunes, lots of sharp joyful trills from violins and drums.

"Oh great," Caleb said with a faint smile. "Rhia is here."

"You're right," David said with a faint whimper. "I shouldn't have brought your mother. I just wish I could've told her that I loved her one last time before I died."

"Don't be so pessimistic." Caleb wrapped his arm around his father's shoulder and pulled him into the atrium. "Come on. We won the game! This is a time to celebrate! Next week, we're going to be facing off against the Leviathans and after that, it's a straight shot to the championship!"

David blinked at him in surprise. "This is all for your victory over the Canterbury Meadows?"

"As far as I'm aware."

His father let out a soft 'huh'.

"Caleb Hale!" came the booming voice. A big, man with what looked like to be a custom made suit to fit his massive, muscular frame wandered over, a champagne glass between his massive fingers. "I am glad you made it! Your friend, Rhiannon, has some astounding powers. Is she an Outsider too?"

Samson Connors was halfway to drinking his champagne when David said, "Actually, she's the Hound of Destruction."

The head of the Alpha Pack stared at David and slowly lowered his glass, giving the superhero a fixed stare. The music stopped and all eyes were suddenly on the two. Caleb found himself inching away from the confrontation.

Then Samson burst into a laugh. "You almost had me there, Steel. The Hound of Destruction. That's a good one!" His laughter was mirrored by the others but it seemed more nervous than the head of the Pack. Caleb met Martha Connors' gaze and though she laughed with the others, she was hugging herself tightly and her eyes were constantly darting to where Rhia had dropped down from the table.

"Thanks for having us, Samson," Caleb said as the music started again, Rhia dragged an athletic tiger up onto the table, Vernon Connors if Caleb remembered correctly, and the two began to dance to the sound of the music. "Are Mary and the others here?"

Samson nodded as a servant passed them by with a silver platter of champagne. He deposited his finished glass on it while picking up another two. He offered one to each of the Hales. "Yes. They should be here somewhere. Ah! There they are! With young Benjamin."

Caleb took the offered glass and thanked his host one more time. "Have fun dad. Mingle!"

"Caleb, wait!" David exclaimed as a group of Alpha Pack members began to converge on the superhero.

He approached his group of friends. Ashton and Mary were standing amongst Lars and Ben. Madman was there too as well as Bren. They all had glasses of various drinks in their hands or paws and idly chattering away. As he approached, Lars gave him a big grin and lifted his glass to a toast.

"Congrats on the game, Cale," the slightly inebriated Doberman said. Lars let out a soft hiccup.

"Hey, you made those awesome passes too, remember?"

"Yeah but everyone knows that it was how you worked with the defence that kept the other team from scoring." Lars' expression grew sombre for a moment. "How's Ralph, by the way?"

"Still at the hospital," Caleb responded. "They patched him up. He'll be up and running for next week's game. He just needs to stay overnight to rest."

"Good to hear."

Ashton let out a soft sigh. "Ah, medical technology sure has come a long way, hasn't it? We can patch up a broken rib in seconds or in the field and what would've been life threatening injuries a millennium ago is a mere inconvenience today. Now if only we could do something about the second and third Matrix movies."

Caleb inclined his head to the side. "The what? As far as I recall, there's only one Matrix movie."

The tiger grinned broadly. "Exactly."

"Huh?"

Mary rolled her eyes and swatted her boyfriend's shoulder lightly. "He says the strangest things whenever he's drunk."

Ashton shrugged absently. "Every story needs someone who can break the fourth wall and relate directly to the audience. It's just no fun otherwise."

Caleb shook his head in confusion, looking to the others for an answer. He got helpless shrugs and he guessed it was just Ashton being slightly drunk. Ignoring the bizarre comments, he turned to Ben. "Hell of party you've thrown here, Ben."

The werewolf grinned sheepishly. "Actually, it was pretty dull until Rhiannon came along. Everyone sort of just stood around staring at one another. Then she just bursts in, announces the party has arrived and starts throwing her illusions around."

"You know your family thinks she's... erm... normal right?"

Ben gave him a sheepish shrug. "I'm not saying we're very religious but being supervillains, you can imagine the Pack might get a little spooked if the you-know-what is around."

"Wouldn't that also work on other packs?" grunted Madman, looking like the tuxedo he was wearing was going to burst. "If they knew you had the H-of-D around, wouldn't they be more eager to bend a knee and lift their tails?"

Shaking his head vigorously, Ben said, "No, no. The Alpha Pack is all about being rebels. Taking control from the fringes of the law; the perfect balance between lawless savagery and diabolical cunning. The HoD is, despite being a bringer of destruction, is a force of law and order. If it became known we really had it on our side, people would think we're going legit."

Rubbing the back of his neck, Caleb said, "Being a supervillain sounds complicated."

"Almost as hard as being a super or the first gay Outsider in the United States," Ben countered with a big grin. "Running off with that reporter with the sob story and making one hell of a splash, huh?"

"It wasn't that big of a splash." He pointed a finger at Ben. "And if I recall correctly, you and Mary were opposed to the idea."

The deceptively small werewolf grinned. "That was before I knew how big of a gasket your dad would blow. Not to mention the fact that the proximity of this reveal next to Lance's outright manhandling of the guy worked to make it look like Lance is the desperate closet gay in denial while you're the open, modest hero that he should be."

Caleb opened his muzzle but lost his voice halfway. "Wait... is that what they're saying?"

"Since no news outlet could get a hold of you, the tabloids began sewing their own stories," Mary said with a shrug. "No decent media agency would write about you without your express permission or confirmed facts but the tabloids are shameless. Some are saying that you're just making up your sexuality to pounce on Lance's vulnerability. Others are saying that you were honest and Lance should be more like you."

A sinking filled his chest as he realised he could have inadvertently damaged Lance's reputation in a bout of rebellion against his father. Some part of him justified that it was his older brother's violent outburst to prying but relatively innocent question that brought it on but that just did not sit right with him. He vowed to speak to Lance about it all, if only to apologise.

"When are you going to have that contract signed with GUYS?" Mary asked, arching an eyebrow coyly.

"I vote in the next chapter," Ashton said waving his paw.

They ignored the tiger.

"Monday afternoon after school," Caleb responded with a smile.

"Speaking of which," Bren announced, pulling out his phone. "I've been pestered all day today about interviews and appearances on shows all day. Apparently, now that it's been made known that Arsenal is open to interviews,everyone wants a piece of you guys. David has booked us all for media training tomorrow."

"Oh, I can't," Caleb responded. "I've got work." Those that didn't know gave him a blank, surprised stare - which was everyone save for Mary. Surprised at their lack of knowledge, he gave Mary a puzzled stare.

"What?" she replied with a shrug. "I don't gossip about everything."

"You just don't want to admit that Rhiannon handed your ass to you," Ashton laughed, a light blush touching his cheeks. Clearly he was drunk. Mary snatched his champagne glass from him, saying 'No more for you.' Ashton just giggled softly.

"Man, he's worse than Lars..." Ben chuckled.

"I'll book you in for Wednesday," Bren said, returning to the topic. "Everyone else, this training is mandatory. We'll need to get Arsenal out into the media to get more funding and follow Caleb's example." He tucked his phone away. "And you have a job, Caleb, where?"

"This Mexican place down at Threshold Boulevard." Remembering his promise to bring the team to the store after the game and realising he had forgotten, Caleb felt a pit of guilt form in his stomach. They had all rushed to the hospital after the game to see to Ralph and it just did not feel right to suggest they go celebrate at a restaurant.

"Mexican?" Madman said, his tail wagging. "I love Mexican." They all gave him a puzzled stare. "Um... Duh? Sanchez?" Caleb inclined his head in confusion. "As in Lewis Sanchez?" He got a series of blinks. "My name!?"

Caleb was amongst those who let out an 'Oh' of realisation.

"You guys are assholes," Madman growled, folding his massive arms. "Anyway, where is this place, Hale? I haven't seen any decent Mexican places around town. Not that I'm allowed out." He gave Bren a foul stare.

A plan was forming in Caleb's mind. A smile crossed his features. "Hey Bren... When is the media training?"

"From tomorrow at nine to noon."

His eyes lifted to meet Madman. "Hey Madman. You feel like doing a little PR stunt? It'll get you out in the sun."

The massive hyena grinned slightly. "What do you have in mind?"

A large series of loud clinks filled the atrium and all eyes turned to Samson Connors who was idly tapping his champagne glass with a teaspoon. Before the head of the Pack began his speech, Caleb quickly scanned the room for his dad and was pleasantly surprised to find David Hale standing in front of Natalie Connors, a slim, equine otherwise known as 'Nightmare'. He strained his ears and thought he heard the two were talking about some battle they had once before.

"First of all," Samson said, "thank you all for attending tonight's event. Everyone including the esteemed Feral Steel." He lifted his glass in a salute towards David who smiled tersely back while lifting his own glass. "We all know that the Gene Stealers are a grave threat and this new outbreak of bears have given us all pause. Their strength and abilities seems to have surpassed previous iterations and we are under threat.

"For those of you that may not know, the Alpha Pack is a criminal organisation, yes, but we represent order within the underworld. Our strength and presence reigns in the otherwise voracious werewolf packs and some of the lawlessness in our world."

Caleb took a sip from his champagne and nearly choked on it. The taste was awful and he tried not to make a scene as he slowly squirted the alcoholic drink back into the glass.

"I know you on the heroic side of the scales may not believe this," Samson continued, "but we contribute to stopping werewolves from overrunning entire countries and even negotiate and plan with established supervillains to bring their plans and ploy to be more realistic." A dark smile crossed his features. "After all, if we were all to engage the same prey, we would all starve. It's a matter of conservation and sustainability."

Glancing over at Ben for clarification, Caleb mouthed, 'What?'

Ben shuffled over and quickly whispered, "If every villain tried to steal from the same bank, there wouldn't be a bank to steal from. They'd be stealing from one another instead. The Pack helps to stop that kind of 'cannibalism'."

"Are there others?"

Nodding, Ben said, "We reign in the werewolf packs and some of the mafia groups. Dominion the God of Evil has his own group known as the Blackpaws that pull back fur supervillains. There are others too." Ben smirked at him. "Come on. Think about it. There are more villains than there are superheroes. That's why every hero has more than one villain, right?"

Quickly doing the math, Caleb recalled that even his dad had at least five villains to his name. Technically, he and Arsenal already had at least that much as well. "How do we keep winning?"

Ben shrugged absently. "No idea. Greater minds have tried to figure that out and have gone insane. Boom. Instant new villain."

They missed a portion of Samson's speech but they caught it back when the werewolf said, "The Gene Stealers are outside of this order. But they show power and strength. There is already stirrings amongst the criminal underworld about joining them."

David placed his glass on a nearby silver platter and gave Samson his full attention. The head of the Pack looked to be regarding him directly.

"They are already taking of a second Gene War. We can all agree that this is a terrible idea. We need to work together to bring the Gene Stealers down not only on the field but also in the hearts and minds of the people. We need to reveal them for the monsters they are."

Martha Connors coughed softly and Samson glanced to her briefly. His features suddenly softened. "But that is a topic for later discussion. Tonight, we celebrate not only our unification under this cause but also young Caleb Hale and Lars McLeod's triumph on the field in today's football game!" He lifted his glass. "Seeing their prowess on the field has inspired me to donate a sum of ten million dollars to Arsenal!"

Caleb started and even David's jaw dropped in sheer awe. When the Pack burst into a bright cheer, Caleb couldn't help but join in.

"You do know that's nothing, right?" Ben said with a smile.

"Considering the worth of your dad and entire family. Yeah."

"No," Ben replied with a shake of his head. "I mean ten million. It won't go that far for Arsenal. That'll get you a jet, maybe. But think about maintaining all of Bren's bodies, the Facility and Elliot's supercomputer. Ten million isn't much."

Caleb's shoulder sagged. "Oh... Well, it's a nice gesture."

Ben sighed softly, giving Caleb a pitying look. "Sorry to tell you this, Cale, but it's a hook and bait. You now know my dad and the Pack are willing to fork over the funds. Just you wait. One of these days you'll come running to him for money. And then you'll be in his debt. He might not say it outright but trust me, you'll be in his back pocket."

Shaking his head, "Come on, Ben. You're being too hard on your dad. I'm sure he means well."

"We're villains, remember?" Ben said with a proud smile. "But I'm also your friend. So fair warning."

After the announcement, Samson beckoned that it was time for dinner and they moved towards the dining hall. Typical of a rich, fancy manor, they all sat on an extremely long table decorated with orchids and fine cutlery. A crystal chandelier hung over their heads and glimmered with all the colours of the rainbow as it sprayed light all around them. Caleb was one of the first to sit and he saw Lars moving to position himself next to him.

Suddenly, Mary was seated next to him. He couldn't blame her as she was his closest friend but the seat on his other side was suddenly occupied by Rhiannon. Lars froze in his step, eyes wide and slowly began backing away.

It took Caleb a moment to realise that he was caught in between Typhoon Mary and Hurricane Rhia.

"Oh fuck me..." he muttered softly.

Rhiannon suddenly reached across the table from him, holding up a red headband with devil horns glued to it. "Here you go," she said to Mary with a dark grin. "I've got the halo on me."

Mary scowled at her. "I am not going to play the 'little devil on the shoulder' to Caleb."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Is your precious little ego so inflated that you want to be the angel?"

"High praise from a woman who revels in all destruction."

Dinner was served shortly. Their host who sat at the head of the table spread his big, meaty arms.

"The first course of the evening," Samson announced. "Your choice of scallop carpaccio and oysters kilpatrick."

An organised line of waiters in black suits and waitresses in frilly, white dresses came bursting in from the doors, moving in perfect synchronisation moving beside each of the diners. The waitresses held the silver platters and cloches that had the thinly sliced scallops dressed in a fragrant vinaigrette mixed with some onions, fresh basil and capsicum. Capers broke the white of the dish. The waiters pulled their cloches and the fragrant scent of the oysters swimming in barbeque sauce topped with crispy bacon and melted cheese made Caleb drool.

"Pick one, Caleb," Mary said, gesturing for the waitress to hand her the scallops. "You only get one."

"Oh don't be such a stick in the mud," Rhiannon countered. "They made this already, right? The food that doesn't go eaten will go to waste. I'll have both." Those serving her glanced at Samson who merely laughed and gestured that it was fine. They set both plates in front of her. "See? Nothing to it."

Caleb glanced to his right at the fragrant scallops and then to the mouth-watering oysters. His stomach growled for the oysters on the scent alone but his higher cognitive functions told him to be classy and pick the scallops. Both thoughts were suddenly derailed when he caught sight of Samson eyeing him casually from the head of the table. On the other end was David, also watching him.

What if this was a terrible game between them? What if his etiquette, choices and social skills would somehow make or damn him in the eyes of one or the other.

"It's just like a videogame, isn't it?" Ashton said from across the table, jabbing at the oysters with a fork. "Not like today's games when your actual actions will define your morality but those old, archaic games from before the Platinum Age of Videogames when your morality, relationship with teammates and indeed the fate of the world rested entirely on helpfully colour-coded dialogue choices and missions." He munched on the oysters, rolling his eyes joyfully. "So what will you do, Master Hale? Listen to your best friend or the new chaotic acquaintance? Order or chaos?"

Caleb glanced from Samson to his father. Ironically, the clean, healthy scallops held by the white-clad waitress stood to his right in the direction of his father. The darkly dressed waiter with the greasy oysters were to his left in Samson's direction.

He told himself he was just overreacting and chose the scallops because he wanted to try something new. He caught the sly, smirk from Mary in Rhiannon's direction. The same smirk appeared on David's face and Samson returned a challenging look as if to say, 'This isn't over.'

"Oh boy..." Caleb murmured. As the waitress set the scallops in front of him, he asked, "How many courses are in this meal?"

"Ten, sir," she replied.

His eyes widened. "Oh boy...."

When asked for his choice of wine, David chose red while Samson picked white. Mary asked for an apple cider while Rhiannon went out of her way to order something called a 'Really Long Island Iced Tea'. He felt all four participants of the bizarre tug of war turn their gaze to him as he was given his choices from a menu. His throat was closing up as he scanned the whites, the reds and available cocktails. Yes, he was underage but it seemed that wasn't an issue at this table. Besides, he and Lars had snuck in beers after games before in one of their more 'bromance' moments.

Thinking of Lars his eyes gravitated towards the mocktails section in hopes of...

"Yes!" he said with a grin. He held up the menu and leaned across the table, waving to catch Lars' attention. "Hey bud! They got Lupus Chilled Fire here!"

Lars' eyes brightened. "No shit! Sweet! I'll have one of those."

"Me too please," Caleb responded, handing the menu back.

Mary looked slightly relieved while Rhiannon muttered something about 'immature boys and their fantasies'. On one end of the table, David Hale had a reminiscent look on his face and nodded towards Samson, acknowledging the draw.

The second course was a choice of soups. One was a creamy chicken leek soup and the other was a cream of barley. None one seemed too interested in his choices there so he was free choose the chicken leek. To his giddy joy, a big pint-sized mug was set in front of him, its clear frame showing off the bright blue liquid inside mirroring the fabled Lupus Chilled Fire that was supposedly meant to be so alcoholic that only those of lupine blood could take a sip and remain conscious. Thankfully, it was just a concoction from a story and its effects couldn't be mirrored.

He hoisted the mug to Lars who did the same, the two of them grinning at one another.

It became apparent as the meal went on that each of the dishes was meant to be a bizarre morality choice between Samson's influence and David's. Perhaps it was a weird psychological test. Mary and Rhiannon preyed on the opportunity as well, adding their own twists.

When the third course - the fish dish - came in, it was a choice between poached salmon and fried swordfish, Caleb just had to try the swordfish much to his father's ire. Rhiannon got the swordfish as well but complained that it was too small, asking for seconds. Mary warned him not to be greedy and he sided with her.

The main course was a selection of meats and being the carnivore he was, he asked for all the meaty selections which caused Mary to roll her eyes and had Rhiannon smiling at her smugly. The Hound of Destruction tried to push her luck by picking off Caleb's plate but he snapped at her, growling like a feral wolf. Neither Samson nor David made heads or tails about that choice.

When dessert came... it became a choice between a classed up banana split and a miniature croquembouche.

He frowned at the banana split which was handed to him by the waitress. The exposed banana was sitting in a bed of whipped cream with peanuts and chocolate fudge sauce dribbled across. Flecks of gold were drizzled around as well and he could see that there were what looked like diamonds sitting at the bottom of the clear, crystal bowl. Fancy and he didn't mind it. Though what disturbed him greatly was the fact that the scoops of chocolate and chili ice cream and strawberry and champagne sat at one end of the banana making it look decidedly... phallic in shape. It didn't help that the maraschino cherries sat at the other end making it look like a human's glands.

The croquembouche wasn't any better. Though traditionally meant to look like a pyramid of profiteroles, the chef had sought to design it like a single tower. Normally, that wouldn't be so terrible however, strings of caramel had been strewn across the entire dish to give it an organic look. Those strings seemed to erupt from the tip of the pointed tower and collate at the bottom of his dish in the shape of two, large, _hair_balls.

Glancing around, he found that no one else had their dish designed in such a way. Their banana splits were normal and their pyramid of profiteroles looked like an actual pyramid.

What confused him more was that the phallic banana split was offered to him from his father's side while the erect, canine penis which was the other dessert hovering in front of his muzzle on Samson's side.

He turned to Rhiannon and Mary who were both openly gawking at the desserts. The two women exchanged glances and then pulled back at the same time, holding up their hands or paws in surrender as if to say that they did not want to do anything with the topic.

Caleb gulped loudly as he felt the intensity of both his father and Samson's gaze on him, awaiting his decision.

"Excuse me, Master Hale," the waiter said suddenly. "I forgot the finishing touch." He set down his croquembouche and took out a small silvery canister. The man began pouring the contents on the tip of the pointed tower, white sticky fluids dripping down the side tower. Form the smell, it was white chocolate.

"Oh come on!" Caleb exclaimed, catching the attention of everyone on the table.

They saw his desserts... and gawked.

Martha Connors slapped her husband's shoulder lightly and Samson looked like a berated pup, shrugging helplessly.

Then an idea hit Caleb. "Hey Ash," he said, holding up his dessert. "Check it out, my banana split is kinda like a dick. Don't you suck Mary's dad's dick?"

Mary jumped in her seat in horror and all eyes were suddenly on her.

"Sure do," Ashton laughed, grinning broadly. Immediately catching his intention, he said, "Can I get some of your bananas and cream Cale?"

"I'd be insulted if you didn't. Hell, why don't you have some of my creamy balls too?" He used his dessert fork to pierce some of the chocolate covered profiteroles and placed them on Ashton's plate.

"No fair!" Madman grunted suddenly. "Why are his balls the only ones covered in white sticky sweet stuff?"

"You want some?" Caleb asked.

"Fuck yeah!"

He plucked one hot roll off the stack and threw it towards the hyena who snapped it up eagerly.

Madman licked his lips. "Hmmm... Sweet and juicy. Just what I thought it'd always taste like."

The table burst into laughter as Caleb's phallic banana split was shared across the table. Pictures were taken before it was devoured. The croquembouche was passed around in the opposite direction, shared equally amongst others. The waiter with the melted white chocolate poured some on the others that chose that particular dessert.

Caleb leaned back in his seat, glancing towards his father. David Hale had a shine of pride in his eyes and on the other end Samson nodded in his direction, acknowledging his choice.

It was with much relief that dinner ended and after half an hour of more mingling, the party began to disperse. He was glad that his dad actually mingled with the Alpha Pack and from the snippets of conversation he caught, they were exchanging stories of villains and heroes that they had encountered in their respective careers.

As they were leaving, Caleb found a gentle hand on his shoulder and he turned to find the elegant Martha Connors regarding him with her sad smile.

"You did exceptionally well this evening," she said. "Despite my husband's obvious ploys, you managed to stay true to yourself."

"Thanks," Caleb said with a faint smile. "Dinner over here isn't going to be like that all the time, is it?"

She laughed softly, her voice angelic. "Of course not. I'll make sure of it." Then her expression grew grave. "Caleb... Have you given any more thought to my words from before?"

He frowned. "You mean your prophecy? I thought that already came true." His ears folded back and he couldn't meet her gaze. "Someone close to me did break my heart and leave me." He clutched his chest lightly. "Left a pretty big hole too... And someone did die. Minos."

Martha shook her head sadly. "I am sorry Caleb... but that was not what I saw. It hasn't occurred yet. I had hoped it did but... I recently had that same look into your future again."

Caleb gulped loudly. "Um... Thanks for the warning, Mrs. Connors. I'll keep my eye out." He glanced around the room, the words of her prophecy ringing in the back of his mind. "I'll do what I can."

******

Lenny drummed his fingers on the counter loudly, a yawn emerging from his lips. A short distance away, Caleb was wiping down the tables for the fifth time. They hadn't had any customers since the lunch rush. It was now five in the evening and the place was utterly dead. Dinner was just around the corner but with the recent Gene Stealer outbreak, Threshold Boulevard's business had gone down. For small businesses with few customers already like Hero Taco, that was bad news.

Gabe emerged from the kitchen and gazed at the empty restaurant with a forlorn look. "Hey Caleb, why don't you head home? I'm sure we can handle the rest of the night by ourselves."

Caleb straightened and checked his watch. "Come on, Gabe. I'm sure I'll pick up once the dinner rush rolls on."

A loud slap brought his attention to Lenny.

"Get it through your thick jock skull, Hale," said the senior waiter. "He can't afford to pay both you and I considering how you totally flaked on getting your jock buddies to come over like you promised."

Caleb growled, ears folded back. "Hey, a teammate of ours got injured last night. I couldn't just get everyone to come over here to celebrate after that."

Lenny rolled his eyes and waved his hands through the air. "Oh god forbid that a high school football player got injured." He hiked a thumb towards the door. "Just clock the fuck out. It's dead anyway. I've half a mind to ditch myself."

Judging from what Gabe had told him, Lenny couldn't rightly afford to leave. Caleb couldn't be too mad either. He saw the intention in the older man's words. Gabe would be driven to bankruptcy if he kept them both on staff without customers.

He glanced out the window, biting his lower lip. "Come on Lewis... where the hell are you?"

Gabe clapped his shoulder, a sad smile on the panda's face. "Lewis is your bud from the team?"

"You could say that."

Shaking his head, Gabe said, "Come on, kiddo. I appreciate you trying. Maybe things will pick up tomorrow. Till then, go home. You're probably bruised from the game last night anyway."

"No, really! I'm -"

A shout from down the street suddenly interrupted him and he glanced back out the window. The ground shook lightly with the familiar _thump-thump-thump_of a particularly large hyena charging down the street.

"Please don't tell me that's another fucking Gene Stealer..." Lenny grumbled. "I've got half a mind to let them infect me so I'd at least get better food and accommodations than my shitty student dorms."

Caleb kept his lips shut as the thumping grew louder. Gabe's grip on his shoulder tightened and he began to drag the wolf away from the window, urging him to get down. Caleb pretended to go along with the panic but he couldn't keep his tail from wagging.

When the setting sun was suddenly blotted out by an enormous shape, he had to grin as Madman saw the sign and quickly opened the door. Unfortunately, the doorframe was too big for him to just slip through so he poked his head in first.

"Hey, would you guys mind if I hid in here for an hour or so?" said the huge hyena, his expression looking surprisingly convincing in its panic. He was even sweating. "I've got a fucking army of paparazzi on my furry ass that I just shook."

Stunned at the hyena's appearance, neither Lenny nor Gabe could move. Caleb instantly pounced and stood up. "Sure thing, man. Can you fit through the door?"

"I'll make myself fit," Madman grunted. He took a few steps back and dove right through the door. The frame cracked a little and buckled but thankfully it did not shatter. Caleb moved to bring Madman to one of the deep green couches with a table made for families a little obscured from the main window.

"Holy mother of fuck!" Lenny exclaimed. "You're that hyena from that Outsider group! You're Madman!"

"That I am, kid," Madman chuckled. He patted his ripped abdominals. "Hey, this is a Mexican joint, isn't it? I love Mexican. Got any decent grub?"

"Sure! Sure!" Lenny scrambled to get him a menu and just as Madman was ordering something, a storm of paparazzi came charging down the streets, cameras flashing.

For a second, Caleb feared that they would miss the restaurant but with the so many eyes and with Madman being so big, they spotted him eventually. The paparazzi stayed outside, cameras flashing while Madman attempted to hide his features behind the menu. To Caleb's surprise, the door sprang open and several giggling girls that were had either their fur or their skin coloured to look like hyena spots charged in. They were all wearing T-shirts with the words 'Crazy for Madman' on their chests.

"Uh..." he began.

A bespectacled guy charged past the girls, waving a paw holding a recording device. "Madman! Madman! What do you have to say about Weapons Master coming out!? Aren't you gay as well!? Do you and Arsenal's field leader do it behind closed doors?"

Caleb's tail fluffed out in horror as Madman lowered his menu and had a sinister look on his face.

"Let's just say that Weapons Master and I like to grapple often. We have quite a bit of hyena-on-hyena action back at base."

For some reason, the girls squealed.

"Oooh! He's so bad!"

"Turn me, Madman! Make me a hyena!"

"I'm crazy for you! I'm totally psychotic!"

Gabe suddenly stepped forward. "Okay, this is getting out of hand." He waved is paws at the gathered groupies. "Folks, let's leave the nice man to his meal, okay? Please leave."

Caleb exchanged glances with the closest person which was actually Lenny. For some reason, he felt that both he and his senior were sharing the same thought. At exactly the same time, they stepped forward, flanking Gabe.

"Yeah!" Lenny shouted. "Either buy something or get out!"

"Everyone's welcome here at Hero Taco!"Caleb exclaimed, spreading his arms to his side. "The restaurant for heroes!"

Gabe gawked at them both. "Now hold on -"

Madman's groupies squealed and suddenly started tearing menus out from the stands. They didn't even order there and started crowding the seats around the hyena. Not that Madman really minded as he laid back and let the girls crowd around him, running their hands over his muscles. It came as no surprise when there were more guys that came along wearing the same T-shirts but instead of openly fawning at him, they kept their distance and got dreamy looks on their faces while scowling at the women.

The paparazzi just watched and ate it all up.

Then the orders started coming in.

Gabe, still slack-jawed, bolted into the kitchen. He was constantly muttering 'shit' under his breath. The restaurant quickly became packed with customers, all there to either take pictures with Madman, talk with him or even just to be in the same place as him. Caleb and Lenny were instantly swamped with orders and they moved all over the restaurant, taking and delivering orders.

All the while, Caleb was grinning broadly and when he got a chance, he nodded towards Madman who gave him a slight flick of an ear in return.

"Hey," Lenny said as they worked together to clean the table. "Thanks."

"For what?" Caleb replied, sweeping up the dirty plates.

"I don't know how you knew a member of Arsenal but having a guy like him eating at our place will really help." Lenny straightened and chuckled softly as he beckoned over a family of hyenas. "For the first time since Gabe's sons got injured, we've got a line outside.So... Thanks."

The paparazzi were mostly gone but in their place were gawkers and fans of _Arsenal_who had heard that one of the members of the Outsider group ate at Threshold Boulevard. He had no doubt that with the added presence of the team in the Boulevard, the stigma of the Gene Stealer strain would be somewhat lifted.

"Let's just say that I know a guy," Caleb replied with a grin. "Come on, table six wants their bill." He pulled the trigger to his squirt bottle and grimaced when he found it was empty.

Another was suddenly handed to him, Lenny offering him a rare, non-sardonic smile. "Something about me, you should know, Hale. I always carry a spare."

******

It was Sunday and that meant it was Richard's turn with the kids though 'kids' was a subjective term. His twin boys were turning eighteen today and that meant they could be tried as adults. Not that Richard ever had to worry about that. Othello and Odin were his pride and joy and the pencil pusher Rottweiler treasured them both. Both boys had grown up to be such strong, honourable young men that he couldn't imagine either of them involved in any sort of criminal activity. Sure they got into trouble at home for pranks as boys were wont to do but it was something he understood better than his ex-wife.

Probably a reason why the boys preferred him to her.

He pulled the handbrake and turned in his seat, glancing into the back of the car. His bright brown eyebrows lifted when he didn't see either of his sons there. When his door opened, his heart skipped to his throat but then Othello's paws seized his arms.

"Come on, dad! Let's go!"

It was hard to believe anyone, especially grown boys like his sons, to still be excited about bowling but there you go.

"Okay, okay," he laughed. "Let's go."

He pulled his thin six foot eight frame from the car. By fur standards, he was fairly short. His species as a Rottweiler would normally mean he'd be a stocky fellow with bulging muscles and a thick neck but his heritage hadn't been so kind. He still had the height but not the muscles. It came from having a family built for desk jobs.

As he moved to the rear of the car and popped open the boot, he recalled how he had once traced his family bloodline to one of the few humans who had 'converted' to a fur during the Gene Wars. Back then, the transformation process didn't pack on the muscle or the height like this new Gene Stealer threat. Though over the centuries, his family had increased their average height from five foot eleven to six foot ten - the youngest of the twins, Odin reached that height - it was still nowhere near where true furs were.

He plucked his custom made bowling balls from the rear of the trunk. After eleven years of going bowling with his sons every third Sunday of the month, he figured it was only fitting to get them custom bowling balls.

"Hey boys!" he shouted. "Little help here!"

Odin came over. The lean, athletic twin took his bag with a bright grin. "Sure thing, daddy. I got ya."

He was fairly sure his boys wanted something from him. They only every called him 'daddy' whenever they wanted something. It really buttered him up and he loved it. It took him back to happier times when he had a whole family. He wasn't going to melt so easily but damnit if it almost brought a tear to his eye remembering his pups clinging to his legs with wide eyes can begging for their presents.

"Come on, stud," he said, rolling his eyes and carrying Othello and his balls into Benson's Bowling Alley, the same place they had been going to for the past eleven years. It hadn't changed much in that time. Sure they had added a second and third storey during that time but ever since that first birthday all those years ago, he had walked into the bowling alley, paid the guy behind the counter for three games and one pepperoni pizza and booked lane 14.

That was no different today. He paid the set amount, got the bowling shoes and headed over to where the boys were already setting up the lane. The bowling alley was crowded with dozens of families around and about. From the fact that there was a sign next to the elevator stating that the third floor was completely booked out and the second floor only had four lanes free, he guessed there was either a party going on or there was maintenance going on.

He sat down next to his boys and began removing his shoes. Othello and Odin were already primed and ready, grinning at one another brightly as they plucked their bowling balls from their bags. Each one had their names on it and had their own designs that outlined their personalities. Odin had designs of spears on it. He was a straightforward kind of guy and a man of few words. Othello on the other hand had his decked out with pencils and papers like the ball had been thrown through a desk.

Richard picked up his own bowling ball which was a simple black and had the name 'Rick' on it in gold.

"I'm up first!" he announced proudly.

As he stepped up to the raised lane, the bright holographic pins sprang up on the other side of the lane, outlined in neon-like lights. He set himself up, threw his arm back and sent the ball soaring down the polished lane.

His sons let out a loud 'oooh' and threw their paws into the air as he crushed the pins... and was left with a 7-10 split.

"Too bad dad," laughed Othello.

"Hey," he said, "I've pulled off miracles before." He was referring to his boys. Their bright brown eyes were as innocent as they had been when he bounced them on his lap. When Rick came back through the machine, he picked the ball up and lined up another shot. As he pulled his arm back, for the finishing blow.

Then his stomach began to rumble, like a painful series of jabs right to his gut.

He sent his ball skittering across the lane, a lot weaker than he had intended. He watched hopelessly as the ball sailed in between the two pins.

"Sorry dad," Odin snickered, stepping up to the lane. "Not tonight."

"I'll catch up," he laughed softly, staggering back to the cushiony seats. The moment he parked his ass down, his stomach rumbled in protest, begging to be fed. He was stunned at his own hunger. He and his boys had just finished dinner but then again, Mexican and spice had a way of running through him rather quickly. Maybe it wasn't hunger just indigestion.

"You alright, daddy?" Othello asked, bright brown eyes shining.

Richard rolled his eyes and gave his son a pointed look. "Okay, what do you want?"

"Nothing!" Othello exclaimed though his cheeky grin said a lot. Seeing his father's stare, the pup lifted his paws and said, "Okay, so maybe we'd like to stay at your place tonight? Mom is having her new boyfriend over and the guy gives us the creeps." Before Richard could protest, Othello continued and said, "We already cleared it with her! She doesn't want us in the house either and all that we're waiting for is your go-ahead."

Sighing softly, Richard ignored the rumble of his stomach and said, "You know what? It's your birthday. Sure."

"Sweet!" Othello threw his arms around Richard's shoulders, stunning the older canine with the abrupt contact. His son pulled away almost immediately when Richard's stomach let out another growl. "Whoa dad, you're hungry tonight. Here, let me go grab the food."

Of course he goes back to referring to Richard as 'dad' once he got what he wanted.

"I'm such an enabler."

Odin scored a spare and swaggered over. "Where's Othello?" he asked in his short, abrupt manner.

"Went to go grab the pizza and drinks," Richard replied with a nod towards the bar. He eyed his youngest son with a smirk. "So, you boys will be staying over?"

Odin blushed beneath his dark fur. "Yeah."

Never one to volunteer information, Odin would need to be prompted before he gave up more of the true reason behind the boys wanting to stay in Richard's small two bedroom apartment in the inner city. "Was it Othello's idea?"

"Yeah."

"Trevor giving you boys trouble?"

"No."

At least he could always count on Odin being truthful but it puzzled him that the problem wasn't his wife's newest boyfriend. She had gone through dozens of them since they split up, never settling for one... yet.

"Your mother?"

Odin nodded slowly. "She's turned into a real bitch since you split."

"Odin!" Richard scolded. "Don't use that kind of language when talking about your mother."

"Sorry, daddy."

Again, his heart melted and he leaned back and patted the seat beside him. "I know we've all changed, son. But know that I'll always love you and your brother."

Odin sat down and wrung his paws together. The poor pup was never really one for social situations. That was Othello's specialty. The bigger pup excelled in the physical world but even with his own father, he was a little awkward. "Why did you split up?"

Richard sighed softly and glanced over to where Othello was just returning with the pizza in his arms and the drinks set on top of the box. "Your mother just wanted something I couldn't give her, son."

"She's such a nympho..."

Richard wanted to scold Odin again but thinking about his ex-wife and how she was practically in constant heat... Well, he just had to laugh softly and ruffle his son's blonde hair. "Yeah, yeah she is. Now come on, food's here."

Richard took one slice and chowed down as Othello had his turn. He finished it before Othello's bowling ball hit the pins and found himself starved for more. By the time it was his turn again, his paws were greasy from the second slice he had. It was with a bit of disappointment that he got up and took his turn though his stomach was pulling him back towards the pizza. He tried to focus on his shot and was lucky enough to get nine of the ten pins.

He dove back to the seats to the playful mockery of his boys and she shrugged it all off as he began eating again. As his boys had their turn, a new sensation began to bubble up inside his chest as he guzzled down his fifth slice. His fingers began to tingle. At first he thought it was just the grease matted to his fur. He licked them off, sucking on his fingers but as he pulled his thumb away from his muzzle he felt the tingling only grow.

His eyes focused on his claw... and watched it slowly start to extend further than any normal canine's claw should be. The black fur around the claw began to lighten, turning into a lighter brown with a silvery sheen to it when it reflected the light.

"Yeah! Strike baby!"

Richard instantly tucked his infected paw beneath his armpits as Othello pumped his fists into the air. Odin gave him a big double high five as he took up position. In the moment where the boys gave each other grins, eyes shining, Richard stole a glance at his tingling paw. The pit of horror in his stomach began to grow as he saw his claws had grown to about an inch each and his black, sleek fur had started to grow longer, fuzzier and into the same thick, brown.

He immediately stood up, surprising his boys. "Um... Need to go to the can. Be right back."

Still with his paw tucked beneath his arm, he hurried to the toilets, glad to find it completely empty. He scrambled to the sink and dared another glance at his paw. A whimper left his lips. The infection had spread all over his entire paw. The tingling felt like it had seeped into his very bones. Right before his eyes, his slim, almost feminine paws grew. Thick veins throbbed against the back of his paw. Even the thick, brown fur couldn't conceal them completely.

Panic began flooding through his chest. With each ragged breath through his chest, he could feel himself drawing the infection further and further up his arm. He was finding hard to focus as his whole paw was corrupted and the growth began flooding his forearm. Thick veins rolled up his thin arm, the sound like stone cracking filling his ears. He grit his fangs together, shutting his eyes as dual sensations of the raw power flooding him from his paw and the gnawing hunger in his belly began to overtake his mind.

He slammed his mutated paw against the bench for the sinks, panting hard. A loud grunt escaped him and his new claws dug into the tiled surface, sending cracks against the surface. A surge of strength rolled up his forearm, causing the muscle there to expand and bubble out to the size of a basketball. It looked ridiculous against his thin upper arm but that was quickly remedied when the muscles rolled up his arm and added mass. His shirt's sleeve tore completely down the seams, leaving him with an enormous, muscular appendage with biceps bigger than his head.

"Oh fuck... Oh fuck..." he whimpered, eyes wide. "I'm infected... Shit... I'm... Oooh god!" He grunted and doubled over against the sink again, his unchanged paw clutching his stomach as the hunger intensified. His other paw slammed against the bench, massive paw tearing a chunk right off it. He tore through the piping. A torrent of water erupted from the damaged pipes.

Desperate with hunger, he pressed his lips around the pipe and eagerly drunk. The cooling effect of the cold water ran down his chest and flooded his stomach. He calmed somewhat as the hunger ebbed a little but he could feel it starting to redouble the moment he took his third gulp. He pulled away from the pipe, groaning loudly as the transformation began seeping up his shoulders and chest. Every panicked breath he took caused his chest to expand, each one needing more and more air as his flat chest began to grow thick mounds of muscle, twin peaks of his nipples pressing up against the straining shirt.

His feet began to ache. The moment he glanced down, his claws erupted from his bowling shoes, inches long. Seconds later, his footpaws tore right through the cheap fabric and soles, bigger than any fur's foot size should be. Suddenly assaulted from two fronts, he somehow, knew that if the spreading brown fur reached his stomach, it was all over.

Holding onto his sanity with all his might, he reached into the back pocket of his jeans even as they began to strain against his rapidly growing and firming ass. He pulled out his phone and dialled a number he rarely called.

"Come on pick up... Please pick up..."

He groaned loudly, hunched over the sink. His calves felt like hot iron rods had been jammed into them and these rods were merging with his muscles. His jeans were instantly torn and he was forced to spread his legs wide. His thighs were just too big and muscular to be fully pressed against one another.

"Hello?"

"Sasha!" Richard exclaimed with relief.

"Rick? Why are you calling me? I'm with Trevor right now."

Richard laughed bitterly and grimaced. Sweat rolled off his brow as the change began seeping up from his thighs into his groin. He had seen the images of those massive, horny bears at Threshold Boulevard and now that he was starting to feel the raw, hunger and need that was causing his cock to plump up and rise, he realised that he wanted more.

"Remember how you always wanted me to fuck you ever night when we were together?"

"What the...? Rick, are you drunk?"

He let out another bitter laugh. "If only... Oh fuuuuck!" He jerked back as cock erupted grew so large that it bounced against the underside of the sink. The sock to his sensitive flesh sent him tumbling back against the soaked ground. He felt the warmth of the transformation pumping through his chest and groin, his balls churning out the hormones that sent the changes spiralling to his stomach. He grew hungry again. His massive twelve inch cock began spurting thick wads of precum and somewhere in his subconscious, the deal was offered - eat and experience the joy of orgasm.

Somehow, he still fought back and kept the phone to his ear even as the change began rolling down his other arm and abdominals. One by one, each abdominal muscle grew and pressed against the thick, brown fur that now covered his entire body.

"Well, Sasha, you'll finally get your wish..." He grunted. "Tell the boys I love them. AH FUCK!"

He jerked his hips upwards. The last inches parts of his torso that remained the thin Rottweiler were consumed and in place was a massive, muscular creature covered in thick brown fur that thinned slightly across his chest just so that every detail of his ripped chest could be seen. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realised that he had finally become the fur that his ancestors had wanted to be.

With one last cry, he crushed the phone in his paw and closed his eyes, letting himself slip into the transformation.

"Dad?"

His eyes sprang open in horror as Othello stepped into the toilets. He wanted to cry out his son's name but what came out instead was a vicious roar that was not his own. He got up with speed belying his size and build. Standing on his paws and knees, his spine popped and rippled, adding extra height to his growing bulk. Lifting his gaze, he only saw his son as prey.

For Othello's part, he saw the last part of his father - the kind, loving face - fade into the broad, bruiser of a bear. His first thought was that of the Gene Stealers but his second was how hot it was to see his father transform and how he had wished he had seen every second of it. He never got to make a third thought as a huge paw from a ten foot bear seized the sides of his head and shoved a huge, thick cock down his throat.

Salty fluids pumped down his throat while his father's musk assaulted his nostrils like an anvil. He tried to pull away but his father's grip was supernatural, hard but not crushing. He looked up with pleading eyes, trying to tell his dad that this was not how he wanted him to find out.

Since they were fourteen, he and Odin had been 'exploring' one another in secret. They both found it unfair that they spent most of their time with their ungrateful mother when she had cheated on their father. But after some legal mumbo-jumbo, somehow, she still got custody of the kids even if she just left them to their devices.

She never cared before and suddenly when she caught the twins making out with one another in the shower, it was her business.

Othello suckled on his father's cock thinking about the real reason he had hope to spend the night with his father; just to come out to him. Both of them wanted to come out to him and have at least one parent looking after them. Sucking on his dad's transformed cock was beyond his wildest dreams.

He shook his head from the perverted thoughts, remembering that this was his dad transformed by a Gene Stealer. His dad had only one paw at the back of his head. The other tore a chunk out of the stalls beside them, his huge muscles bunching with the effort. The scene gave Othello a hard on but at the same time, better judgement ruled and as his dad chewed on the concrete and metal like it was made of candy, Othello did the one thing he never wanted to do to his dad - he punched his balls.

Richard let out a loud yelp and whimpered, showing some parts of his canine heritage still shining through. He backed away, releasing Othello who quickly scrambled to his feet even though he felt a pang of regret in his stomach at leaving his father in such a state. He turned just as a doors opened and Odin came in.

"Din!" he exclaimed, seizing his brother's shoulders. "Dad's infected! We've got to go!"

Odin glanced at the bear who was just rising, his eyes wide. "That's dad?"

"Yes!" Othello felt a deep rumbling in his stomach. He dismissed it as fear. "Come on!" He turned took a step towards the door but the combination of the flooded bathroom floors and cum caused his foot to slip and he tumbled to the ground, falling on his younger brother.

Panic filled him, eating at his energy reserves and giving him a gnawing sensation in his stomach. It was just like when his mom had caught him dominating Odin in the shower. But it was worse, far worse.

Odin's shaking snapped him out of the memory. "We got to go!"

But all he could say was, "So... hungry..."

His prayers were answered when a big, throbbing cock was presented in front of him. The hunger in him melded with the fantasies of himself and his brother cuddling naked with their father who had accepted them for their orientation and their love for one another, covered in cum and in each other's warming embrace.

His lost all his inhibitions and wrapped his muzzle around that glorious, foot long cock that continued to grow. Though slimmer and in no way as strong as Odin, he somehow found the strength to pin his brother beneath him, grinding his hips into his brother's developing, lean chest. The salty taste of his father's thick precum danced on his tastebuds. There was so much of it that it dribbled out the corners of his muzzle and fell on Odin beneath him who struggled.

Lost in the lust and the fantasies of a child who only ever found comfort in his twin and father's arms, Othello gave himself to the changes. His cock burst from his pants, big, thick and throbbing just like his father's. The hunger in his stomach was caught in a state of equilibrium as his father's precum fed it while it expended this same fuel to cause his slim form to burst from beneath his jacket and shirt, thick, brown fur replacing his short, black coat.

As if sensing his brother's struggles, the changes flooded into Othello's arms and shoulders, pumping them with new strength and muscle that rivalled even his father's enormous bulk. His shoulders grew to the size of the bowling balls that he had handled so easily for years. His upper and lower arms grew long and broad, pulsating with enough veins that it looked like a tree root system. Huge paws held down his brother, fully capable of crushing the Rottweiler beneath him.

Instead, some semblance of love and affection was maintained in the two transformed Rottweilers. Othello gently caressed his brother's arms while Richard slowly rubbed his foot against Odin's rising and falling chest. Right between the eldest son's paws, Odin's shoulders and ballooned out, tearing through his shirt and making the younger of the twins let out a whimper. That whimper turned into a moan of pleasure as his own cock caused the buttons of his pants to shoot out and rub against his brother's.

The deep, insatiable hunger began to develop in Odin as well and the normal silent twin let out a loud moan. His already defined pecs surged out, tearing his shirt apart. His erect nipples pressed against his brother's, the raw contact sending an electrical feeling through his body and kicking up instincts of being in intimate positions with the one person who only ever understood him.

As if sensing his brother's submission, Othello let go of Odin's blossoming shoulders. The rest of his body shifted and changed. A thin, slim back widened, developing the V shape that his father now so proudly bore. Mounds of muscle that he had always enjoyed tracing along Odin's back grew along his back. Each one of the bucks he made brought on a new inch along his spine, making him taller and taller. When one buck was met by his brother's warm lips, he let out a loud gasp that turned into a gurgle as his father shot another gallon of precum down his throat.

He seized his father's massive thighs, shivering in delight as he felt the hard cuts of muscle along that length of leg and the veins in between. Slowly, he guided his father to the ground, lying on his side while Odin repositioned himself to more easily suckle on his brother's cock. Instincts had taken over and days when they had discovered the 69 position took over. The only problem was that Othello still had his father's cock in his muzzle and he was unwilling to let go.

That did not last long as Richard let out one last grunt and his entire, musclebound body tensed. Othello's eyes boggled. He saw his dad's balls tense up just before the rocket of cum shot down his throat. He eagerly lapped it all, feeling the warm fluids flooding every inch of his body and turning the slim Rottweiler he had been and moulding it into the perfect, dominant male he always knew he was.

Massive legs wrapped around his brother's shoulders. He gave one last buck as his own cock tensed and shot his load into Odin's all too willing muzzle. A tingle ran down his spine as he felt his brother's form shift and change right beneath him.

Just before he closed his eyes to give in to the pleasure entirely, he saw his father shuffle over to Odin and wrap his muzzle around the thick, 18 inch meat that hung between the growing bear's legs.

The trio humped and bucked their loads into one another. Even as soon as their changes completed and they became three, incredible specimens of beastly bears, their hunger could only be partially sated and they were left in a state where they could not release one another from their orgasmic daisy chain for fear that the hunger would take over again. So lost in the pleasure of shooting their load into one of the men that they loved and lovingly suckling the cock of the other, none of the bears noticed the other changes rolling across their bodies.

Across their backs, mounds of flesh began to grow. These mounds grew to an inch in length before they were slowly punctured by long, black spikes. Muscles and nerves readjusted and connected at the base of each of the spines, giving each of the bears something else to their arsenal.

When each spike grew to about a foot in length with the longest directly down their spines, the hunger finally stopped. Each of the bears gave one last orgasm and a deep grunt... before their bodies relaxed, spent and drained.

Richard was the first one to pull his muzzle away from the cock of his son. He shivered as Othello pulled his muzzle free from his cock, enjoying the touch of his son's rubbery lips drawing across every inch of his foot long member. He met Othello's gaze, eyes now a deep black but still filled with intelligence.

"I fucking love you, son," he grunted.

"I love you too, daddy," Othello answered with a soft smile.

They both heard the creak of the bathroom door and a human stepped in. The guy stopped in mid step upon seeing the bears on the floor. Odin was the first to move and the titanic, fourteen foot bear who had to crouch in the bathroom surged towards the man, tearing him from the doorframe and slamming him on the cum-covered ground.

The predatory grin on Odin's features said it all.

Richard was getting hard again.

******

Caleb was in his room tapping away at his computer some notes for his history assignment with one paw and lifting a dumbbell in his other. His father insisted_he workout even doing his homework. It was better than what Lance had to do; upside down crunches while studying for his own classes. Once again, it had been busy at _Hero Taco and that night they had closed with the till bursting and Gabe mentioning that they had never had so many customers before in a weekend.

It was good that Madman put his media training to practice and carefully endorsed the restaurant without giving too much away about Arsenal. Though Lenny boasted that it was where heroes dined and only one Outsider had eaten there - officially - people were already gathering. Mary was curious and said that she'd make an appearance sometime in the week. Lars said he'd make time after the play.

For his part, Caleb was glad that Gabe's establishment was finally getting the recognition it deserved.

His moment of pride was interrupted, however, when his phone rang. The tune 'Waiting for You' played in his ears. He immediately seized it from his table and put it to his ear.

"Bren?"

"We got bears. South Mesmerton. Bernard's Bowling Alley."

"Got it."

He bolted out of his room and hurried down the stairs. "Dad!"

"I heard," David exclaimed, already at the garage door. "Lance is back at the Tower doing his homework. We can't rely on the Alliance's help this time around. We're on our own."

"We can handle them." He quickly ducked into the lounge room where the rest of the family were gathered, regarding the two worried. He pecked his mother on the cheek. "We'll be fine mom." Abby was next and he kissed her cheek as well. "I'm going to be back for the wedding. I promise."

"You better," Abby growled, both playfully and worriedly.

Without even thinking and partially caught in the moment, he gave Leon a peck on the cheek. He was pulling away when he realised what he had just done. Recovering quickly, he said, "Stay strong, bro." He gave Leon a punch on the shoulder and quickly hurried to the garage, jumping on Ballistic.

The moment his rump felt the touch of the leather seat, his clothing shone and shifted into his uniform.

"Huh... Hey Rhia, my mom has been asking where my clothes go after you switch them out. She wants to know what you use to clean them. You got that chocolate stain out that's been there since last year."

He shoved his helmet on and heard Rhia's voice through the communicator.

"I'm the Hound of Destruction. I destroy stains. Hell, if I ever wanted to open a business, I bet I'd make a kickass laundry service. Or maybe I'll sell my prowess as a laundry detergent."

He grinned as he drove Ballistic out of the garage with his dad, in his Feral Steel uniform, hovering beside him. "So what's our bad guy this time?"

Rhiannon was silent for a long moment and they were halfway down the street before she spoke again. "Seventy-nine bears this time. The entire bowling alley has been turned. Police blockade is just being set up but for some reason, the bears aren't coming out... I sense... more than just animalistic intelligence in them this time..."

That worried him as he sped through the streets. "Okay... Maybe the top bear is there this time. Who's onsite?"

"Currently it's only Ben, Madman and Bren."

"Oh Bren is so going to get killed."

"I told him that too but he said he'd rather be killed out there than stuck behind a desk all day. Mary and Lars are about ten minutes away. You?"

He checked the GPS on Ballistic's dashboard. "Twenty. Tell them to hold the fort."

Suddenly he heard something in the background and it sounded like Elliot.

"Hey! Muscles!" shouted the orca. "We've got a problem! I just hacked into the cameras of the bowling alley. Those bears aren't... normal. They've got spikes growing out of their backs."

Caleb glanced over his shoulder at his father who gave him a helpless shrug.

"What do you mean, Elliot?" David asked.

"I'm talking about some other form of mutation that isn't normal for most furs. And they all have it!"

"Are they still eating everything in sight?" Caleb asked as they turned into traffic. He weaved through the cars. Where he passed, several drivers got out of their vehicles and cheered him. He saw one woman actually leapt out and pull up her shirt, wiggling her breasts at him. That gave him shivers.

"They still have the ability to devour all matter around them, I think. I'm looking at a few of them eating those smelly bowling shoes. They still get hard from it but... But it looks like three of the bigger bears are actually... commanding them to hold it in...? This doesn't make sense..."

Caleb though back to his encounters with some of the more lucid victims of the Gene Stealers. Even after days of being transformed, most of the victims were still overcome by their animalistic urges and could do little more than rut wildly. However, amongst them were what the FBI had dubbed the 'lieutenants' - individuals who had developed unique superpowers that were just a step below an Original. They had only seen them during Minos' uprising with four bulls wielding superpowers of their own.

"Wait... are you saying that we've got nearly eight guys out there on the same level as Bullhorn or Spit Roast?"

Elliot's silence was far from comforting.

"Oh shit..."

"Caleb," his father said gravely. "If you want to go back..."

"No dad," he answered firmly. "I don't."

He flicked the switch to his Time-Space Fold Engine and kicked Ballistic into high gear.

"Crap!" Elliot shouted.

"Damnit Mary!" Rhiannon shouted. "Stupid hot-headed, prideful bitch!"

Caleb's heart plummeted. "What!? What happened?"

"I told her to sit still as you were on your way and then she just charged in! Good God! It's madness!"

It only took Caleb another three minutes to get to the bowling alley but he saw the 'madness' long before then. The line of policemen had ducked behind their barricade. Their cars were turned into pincushions for huge, foot-long, black spikes. Those same spikes had cut holes into the concrete of the bowling alley. As he approached, he had to immediately duck as one flew overhead. Through the windows of the facility, he could see flashes of fire which signified that Lars was inside as well.

"What the hell!?" he cried. He slammed his fist against Ballistic, calling up Funny Bone. He slammed his paws into the ground. A huge wall of white bone jutted out of the ground in front of the barricade, rising up to a good five storeys. Only a small opening was left for him and his father to get through.

The loud thuds of the spikes hitting the bone could be heard. He switched Funny Bone for Branding Iron and hefted the massive, crystal shield in front of him as he charged through the opening. He pushed through the cracked and broken glass door, his crystal minotaurs appeared on either side of him.

He had to lift his shield up immediately as a spike came shooting towards him and bounced off the shield.

"It's Weapons Master!" shouted one of the bigger bears. "Get him! And stop eating, damnit!"

The big bear was flanked by two equally strong-looking ursines. All of them had black spikes on their back. Caleb came to the realisation that there was only one reason why every bear had black spikes and there was this one, commanding bear standing amongst them.

"Fuck!" he shouted and immediately ducked back outside and crouched down, holding down his head as spikey projectiles shot overhead. Flecks of rubble bounced off his shoulders.

His father, shocked by his sudden move of cowardice leapt back beside him. "Caleb, this is no time to back out!"

"I'm not backing out," Caleb snarled. "That's the Original!"

David Steele froze. "What!?"

Caleb ignored his father for the moment and glanced around the corner into the bowling alley. Lars used the moment of distraction to stand up from behind the receptionist's counter and shoot a few flames into the midst of the bears but he was immediately met by a volley of spikes.

"Hey guys, has Bren died yet?" he cried.

Madman lifted a paw, holding up the limp body of Bren riddled with spikes. "Sorry! He was as good a meat shield as any."

Caleb grit his fangs. "BB, do you still have contact with Rhiannon and Elliot?"

"Yes!" came the reply. "Why?"

"That's the Original in there! And those are his Thralls! They're just clones_of the Original now!" He got a unified 'What!?' from his friends. "Think about it! There has _never been any instances of a lieutenant creating other infected with the same superpowers! Only Originals creating Thralls can do that!"

Another volley of spikes shot by him, one coming dangerously close to his nose.

David seized Caleb's shoulder and squeezed it hard. "Son, are you telling me that if we take down that guy in there..."

"This bear strain is over, yeah," Caleb replied. "But against all that spikes, I don't think I can -" He ducked again as another volley shot overhead.

David nodded. "Alright. What's the play?"

His eyebrows raised confused that his father would ask him such a question. Unwilling to back down, he quickly scanned the bowling alley and his surroundings.

"Weapons Master!"

He turned towards the opening in the bone walls as Bren came running through again. The tiger didn't get far as all the bears inside the facility instantly targeted him and fired. Caleb winced. Bren fell back, completely riddled with holes or impaled by dozens of spikes.

"Well there goes my idea of going back for Funny Bone..." He peered back into the bowling alley. The bears, cocks throbbing and hunger in their eyes, were closing in on the reception desk. He was running out of time. His eyes fell on the stairs.

"Dad, pick me up. I need to get higher."

David unquestioningly seized him under his armpits and immediately zoomed into the air. "How high do you want, son?"

They swept past the bowling alley's top storey. "Higher!" he shouted.

They rose up to ten storeys high. "Now?"

"Higher!"

"What are you thinking!?"

As Caleb looked down at the almost miniscule bowling alley with its neon signs, he said, "Death from above." He gave his father a thumbs up right in view of a news helicopter. "Wish me luck."

Even with the optical jammers, he could see his father's worry. "Good luck."

David Hale dropped his son.

Caleb immediately weaved his powers through Branding Iron. Dozens of crystal Minotaurs appeared in mid-air around him and like him, they curled themselves into a ball with their massive axes extended over their shoulders ready for the overhead swing. A few other Minotaurs clashed together just beneath him, forming a protective shield with their bodies for the -

CRASH!

... inevitable collision with the bowling alley's roof. The crystal frame of the Minotaurs held surprisingly well even as they smashed through the third floor and then the second. Only on the ground floor did they shatter, sending showers of crystal in all directions but still somehow cushioning Caleb's fall. He landed in the middle of the lanes, the crystal shards spraying in all directions and embedding themselves into the flesh of the Thralls.

Bears roared and reeled from the impact.

Then the other Minotaurs came crashing in front the ceiling. Like massive, crystal missiles, they crashed into the bears around them, their massive axes cleaving into the flesh of the bears, fatally wounding those they impacted with their blades or their crushing momentum.

The bear Original flinched, his eyes wide as his army was effectively reduced in half and another crystal army was suddenly in the middle of his base.

"Arsenal! Unleash!" Caleb roared.

Ben immediately poked his werewolf head from behind the receptionist's desk. "Now that's a battle cry!" The hulking, blood red werewolf leapt out from behind the desk, massive claws tearing into the stunned bears around him. He drew blood from each of them, forming the crimson fluids into massive, spiked whips that he snapped around him.

Mary and Lars came after. Lars flung his flames at Mary's blades, coating them in bright blue flames. Then he created bright jets of focused, blue flames jutting from his paws. The two charged at the bears, their own versions of fiery swords swinging.

Madman let out a loud roar and charged right through the desk and ploughed through the masses of bears, using his superior size and strength to cleave through them all. From above, Feral Steel came sweeping in, metal rods raining down from above and piercing the flesh of the Thralls around them. He joined the melee, his own super strength and experience setting him back to back with Madman.

Caleb grinned. His danger senses screamed and he immediately lifted his shield.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

The force of the spikes sent Branding Iron's shield flying from his grip. He took one step back but found his food rest on something spherical. He fell back, a bowling ball with the name 'Rick' drawn in gold rolling in front of him.

The big ursine Original flanked by his two biggest Thralls approached.

"We only wanted to leave," growled the Original. "But now you've ruined that! Now you die!"

CLANG!

The bear to the Original's right straightened from his crouch, the spines on his back relaxing. Branding Iron's blade lay several feet away from Caleb, sent there by a well-placed spike.

"Not so tough now without your weapons, are you?" the Thrall snarled.

Caleb snatched the bowling ball from where it rested beside him. "Everything can be a weapon in the right paws." The ball was wrapped in ethereal blue light and started shooting off white feathers. The bears began to tense, starting to crouch to launch their back spines.

He threw the ball -

Wham!

It bounced off the Original's nose, barely doing any damage. Caleb's heart sunk when the glow vanished from the bowling ball in a dazzling array of tiny, blue sparkles to no effect.

A dud weapon.

He saw the look of triumph on the Originals muzzle and heard his father's cry.

Time seemed to slow.

He wondered if and when his life would start flashing before his eyes. Memories of his first true kiss with Lars began to seep into his mind when...

... he realised that the bowling ball was hovering in mid-air.

His look of puzzlement gave the bear in front of him a moment to pause. When the bowling ball sprouted blonde-brown hair all four of them stopped and stared.

Bowling balls had three holes in them shaped in a vague inverted triangular pattern. When the lower hole suddenly broadened into what looked like a pair of lips and the right one winked at Caleb, the wolf began to wonder what in the world he had just created. Music began emitting from the ball.

"We're no strangers to love," the ball began to sing in a resonating tenor. "You know the rules and so do I. A full commitment's what I'm thinking of. You wouldn't get this from any other guy."

"Huh?" Caleb asked.

He shook his head from the strangely vocal bowling ball and back to the bears... only to find them staring at him with confusion. Their hips were gyrating... and not in the overly sexual way. Their paws were wagging at him for some reason...

"I just wanna tell you how I'm feeling," bowling ball continued, bobbing in the air to the tune of its own music. "Gotta make you understand!"

The ball spun in mid-air before giving Caleb another wink. "Never gonna give you up. Never gonna let you down! Never gonna run around and desert you!"

When he heard a loud, synchronised slap, he turned his gaze from the 'Rick' and back to the three bears around him. In perfect unison, they were shaking their hips, stepping side to side in line with the music and clicking their fingers while waving their heads.

"What the fuck is going on!?" shouted the Original.

"I can't control my body!" cried another.

"What is this song!?" exclaimed the last.

"Never gonna make you cry! Never gonna say goodbye! Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you!"

Caleb slowly rose to his feet... just as the bowling ball began shooting a spectrum of colourful rays reminiscent of a disco scene from tis surface. Every bear in the facility were suddenly pulled from their battle, gravitating towards the Original and his lackeys, their naked rumps wiggling and swaying in perfect synchronisation with one another.

"We've known each other for so long. You're heart's been aching, but you're too shy to say it."

All at once, the bears that had their back turned to him spun towards him. As one, they began singing a background melody; mostly long, angelic 'Oohs' followed by 'Give you up'.

"Inside, we both know what's been going on."

Caleb grinned. "Cool. Crazy disco bowling ball."

"We know the game and we're gonna play it."

"Weapons Master!" came Mary's panicked cry. He jerked to his left where Mary came swinging in, pirouetting straight into Lars' arms. The big Doberman caught her expertly and dipped her.

"And if you ask me how I'm feeling. Don't tell me you're too blind to see!" the bowling ball sang. Lars' lips moved to mirror the song.

"Hey, Blue, I didn't know you know this song," Caleb laughed.

"I don't!" Lars exclaimed in panic.

A new sense of surprise hit Caleb. "Erm... So that means this dancing...?"

"We can't stop either!" Mary screamed, as Lars pulled her back to her feet. "What unholy weapon have you created!?"

"Never gonna give you up!" everyone in the line sang, the bowling ball bobbing in front of them gleefully. "Never gonna let you down. Never gonna run around and desert you!"

Caleb inclined his head to the side at the bizarre scene as his father, Madman and even Ben joined the front line of dancers in front of the bears, all of them singing in unison to the chorus.

"Never gonna make you cry. Never gonna say goodbye. Never gonna tell and lie and hurt you!"

"It's like a musical where everyone bursts into song at the climactic battle..." he admitted.

"Make it stop!" Madman shouted, grooving to the tune despite his eyes wide in fear.

"I dunno, I kinda like it," Ben said with a grin. "The song I mean. Not the uncontrollable dancing."

Caleb lifted his paws. "Okay, okay. Show of paws. Who wants this to stop?"

Of course, none of them were able to raise a paw. They only sung 'Never gonna give you up' while wagging their fingers at him.

"Okay then," he said with a shrug and a broad grin. He fished out his phone and levelled it at them. "Smile!"

******

"That was clever," Shark Tamer chuckled. "Impatient but clever." He switched off the feed to the scene outside of the bowling alley and turned his swivel chair to his guest. "You not only executed the test perfectly but you also threw off suspicion off yourself. Now they will think Ursa subdued."

"I doubt it," grunted the newest Gene Stealer. "The test was successful. We can now transfer superpowers. Though it still diminishes with each successive 'generation'. But the victims retain their consciousness after they develop it. What is that you said? Superpowers come from melding of the conscious with subconscious?"

Shark Tamer nodded. "Baseline superpowers, yes. But you are right. Everyone who has ever developed primary superpowers always retain a level of consciousness." He turned back towards the screen and turned the feed back on. "Yes... I can see most of them still have some semblance of identity. The primary three surely have the most but the youngest brother is a little denser. Those three are a prime example for study. We have to bring them in for closer study."

Ursa scoffed loudly. "They'll spill what they know before we can get to them. They'll know I'm still out there."

"Yes, yes. I know where you're getting at." Shark Tamer picked up a piece of paper from his desk and held it over his shoulder. "I have all the data I need. It's time to progress with the plan. This is your target. Make it happen."

The paper was swiped from his grip. "Fine. But you better deliver on your end of the deal too. Or I swear..."

"I'm not stranger to threats, Ursa," chuckled Shark Tamer. "But rest assured, I am a man of my word. I will deliver. In fact... the moment you finish this mission, you will have your reward."

Ursa was silent and Shark Tamer heard him start to leave.

Before he did, however, the bear asked, "So Weapons Master doesn't know that he just -"

Shark Tamer grinned. "No. No he doesn't."

******

The bear Original, formerly known as a Rottweiler by the name of Richard Hammerstein, was escorted into an anti-super van. His sons, Othello and Owen were already in there. Caleb eyed the hulking bear, 'Rick' contained in a blacked out, soundproof case in his paws that he could very easily open and unleash its hell upon everyone present.

It had taken the better part of an hour for Caleb - who remained utterly immune to Rick's powers - to ferry anti-super cuffs and slap them on each of the remaining bears before he could safely contain the singing bowling ball. Only once Rick was out of sight and could not be heard did everyone under its spell drop from exhaustion.

David made his son to swear never to post any of the pictures taken anywhere. The threat was echoed by everyone in Arsenal though the threat was quite hollow as the roof _was_blown open and the news helicopters had caught the entire embarrassing ordeal.

Hammerstein stopped before getting on the van, staring straight at Caleb. "That has got to be one of the most deadly weapons on Earth," he grunted.

"One wrong move and I'll lock you in a cell with him," Caleb responded.

The bear snorted loudly. "You think you beat the head honcho, didn't you?" Caleb's brow furrowed and a frown crossed his features. "You think that I'm the Original and all these people are Thralls." He glared at Caleb with his black eyes. "I love my sons. I didn't turn them into beasts on purpose and no way in hell would I ever turn them into mindless monsters." He jerked his chin towards the other bears that were being carted off. "Why do you think I was making sure no one left the bowling alley, eh hero?"

"You were surrounded..." Caleb murmured.

"You saw what we could do," Richard answered darkly. "We could've broken through that police line and spread out into the city, disappearing from your view or wreaking havoc everywhere on the level of Minos."

All things considered, that was true. "So why did you stay then?"

"Because those guys back there," Richard said, flicking his ears towards the bowling alley. "They were just guys looking to bowl and fell into an evil plot just like the rest of us. We're all victims. I changed and we couldn't control ourselves as we changed everyone else." Richard leaned down, his muzzle on level with Caleb's. "Me and my sons stopped them from escaping to hurt other people. If you had given us another hour, we would've walked out and surrendered."

Caleb's eyes widened in horror. "Wait... are you telling me...?"

"They were regaining control," sneered the bear. "Something we figured out, hero. See these spikes on our back." He hiked a thumb over his back. "When I was just a bear, I had this crazy hunger in me that wouldn't be sated. Whenever I ate, I came. But I guess after I ate enough of my son's cum and he ate enough of mine, we grew the spikes. Once they were out, the hunger was gone and we were sane again. Took a little longer to get full control but by then, you and your buddies charged in."

Richard leaned back. "Look around you, hero. How may bears do you see with spikes compared to those that don't?"

Caleb looked... and only saw about half had spikes.

"That's right," rumbled the bear. "You didn't mercy kill any mindless 'Thralls'. You didn't release clones from the torment of being a template of someone else's mindset like all those news reports said." He leaned down again, lips peeled back in a snarl. "You just outright killed."

...

Richard was hauled away and the doors shut to the van.

As it drove away, Caleb felt numb all over. He barely felt his father's paw on his shoulder, slowly turning him around.

"Good job out there," he said. The pride in his smile wavered. "Hey... What's wrong?"

"I... I just killed..." he murmured.

"Right. You've done that before against -"

"Thralls!" Caleb shouted with rising panic. "I killed Thralls before because they were no longer people! They were just forced clones of the Originals!"

"I know," David said, seizing his son's shoulders with both paws. In a whisper he said, "Caleb, what's gotten into you?"

"Dad..." he said with a quivering voice and wide eyes. "Those weren't Thralls... They were victims... They were Gen 1s... or something else! We never _killed_anyone above Thralls! Just had them arrested! The only deaths are... are..." He shook his head vigorously. "Point is... they were people! They were individuals on their way to recovery! If I had just given them five more minutes, they would've been able to pull themselves back but... but instead..."

David's eyes widened in horror. "Oh God... Oh God... No, no son, you didn't know! You didn't know!"

Caleb - Weapons Master of Arsenal - fell to his knees, clutching the side of his head, sobbing loudly. Images of his crystal Minotaurs crashing through the ceiling and slicing to kill those poor people flashed before his eyes. He stole a glance past the slew of people at the ambulances slowly carting off the dead bodies in body bags.

He let out a tormented howl.

Police officers turned and media officials slowly began to approach.

"There's nothing to see here!" Feral Steel shouted, using his body to block view of his son breaking down.

Mary was suddenly there, wrapping her arms around Caleb's shoulders, holding him tightly.

"Come on, Cale," she whispered softly. "Come on... Let's get you out of here."