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Present day:

Bitter nightfall was fast approaching, as the sky lit up in an arching inferno from the screaming volleys and scorching bombshells. A sequestered island was the pockmark in a lake, attacked from all sides by invading forces that clawed and chewed up the landscape until it was nothing but faceless mud. The enemy was persistent and unstoppable, hungry for victory and starved of bloodshed. They had the quiet, sinister determination that went just beyond war. It abandoned any virtue of decency or of honour, and began to stray into territory occupied by only that of mad men. It had been a long struggle, between armies of equal power, all soldiers marching under the irony that their generals roared the same self-righteous speeches, staking their claim at divine support. Be it a single god or many, it seemed all the deities had cast their dice in the cold war that was seeping across the planet. Already it had consumed two of the continents, sending them into a boiling broth of battles and skirmishes, their oceans littered with menacing warships that bobbed along the waves; boughs cutting through like a knife sliding through flesh. The war was cutting apart their world, named so aptly as Divinia - the divine world, beloved to the gods - and soon there would be nothing left but diseased lands, poisoned waters, and fractured husks of cities and landmarks that had once been the pinnacles of the Divinian legacy.

All of this did not matter to Stefan Wolfgang, who staggered his way through tiny corridors, avoiding the isolated dust-falls that trickled from the cracking ceiling. Outside, booming through the walls, the sounds of mortar shells battering themselves against the fort's sides could be heard exploding. The vibrations tore through the bricks and left the bleeding German Shepherd with ringing ears. His mind was fogged, shuttering between consciousness and deliriousness, leaving him weak and vulnerable as he valiantly struggled to get to the safe room. The fort shook again, some closer explosive hitting its mark - they were advancing at an alarming rate. Stefan knew he did not have much time if he were to ever make it out of this. How his liaison would ever get to him in time, he had no idea, but that was not within his grasp. He could not control some other man whom was responsible for his safety. He would have to hole up and wait. Though it seemed almost trivial whether the enemy found him or not, Stefan realised with grim humour, as he'd die within the hour. That much he was certain of. As he pulled his robotic paw away from his side, revealing the ragged, weeping punctured wound of some lucky soldier's gunshot, he let out a quiet whimper. He had known that accepting his mission would place him in the line of fire; he hadn't expected it to turn out quite so literally. Death, however, that was always to be expected. He just wished he'd have been one of the fortunate souls to have received something of lesser severity than a fatal bullet to his gut. Too much blood had been lost. He barely had the strength to clamber up the spiralling steps to the upper floors, pulling his weight along with shaking legs and bloodied paws.

Above it all, through the din of crying furs and charging footsteps that still rang about the dying fortress, Stefan was aware that he was cold. At first, he'd believed it to be the sweet embrace of the gods pulling him to the afterlife, but it felt wrong somehow. Not that he believed himself to be an expert at death, Stefan merely felt uneasy about the sensation. It was not relief that flooded his system but fright - a chilling fear that snared his bones and plucked at every nerve until he was sure that there were things worse than dying right now. His breath was misting before his muzzle, swirling into patterns of icy dust. It was impossible though. Even though it was indeed the beginning of a miserable winter, one that had had military officials running scared for they lacked the supplies to sustain their troops, it had not set in just yet. Besides, night as it was, the flames that were picking their way through the fort kept the place fixed in a state of heated frenzy; fought back just enough to be burning pleasantly away in some odd corner here or there, but just as present to leave the remaining occupants afraid of the licking fires. Stefan was not afraid of the fire though. That was not what made him sick in his gut. As he picked his path up the stairs, one aching step at a time, lungs burning with frantic breaths, Stefan could see the broken walls crumbling away to reveal not the violent beast that writhed outside, baring its fangs of artillery. Instead the world beyond was frozen over, stretching out across to the horizon in nothing but an empty, white wasteland. The air was sucking the life out of the dog as he did his best to ignore the hallucination - most likely brought on by the blood loss - for if he did, we was sure he'd pass out and die upon the steps. But in the periphery of his vision, he could see the light setting upon the icy wilderness, plunging it ever so slowly into malevolent darkness. Without a single moment's pause, the sun disappeared behind the taut line of the snowy plains and left the expanse adrift in night cast in a blizzard. Stefan neither wanted to be there, standing beneath the flurrying snow, than he did want to be there, in the thick of the war.

He managed to make it to the top of the staircase, though he was almost convinced that he'd trapped himself in some never ending nightmare of climbing those winter steps as he'd long since succumbed to his wounds, but sure enough he collapsed upon the landing, facing just a short walk away to the imposing door that'd buy him some time. The German Shepherd staggered to his footpaws, lifting up his weight to make his way down the corridor. His paws reached out to steady himself against the shaking walls as he made every wincing stride, his muzzle peeling back to bare his teeth as pain flashed through his body. He might be able to treat his wounds, if the safe room hadn't already been ransacked by some idiot. It gave Stefan a glimmer of hope, even if it only meant finding a single vial of pain killers. At least then he could numb away the fiery agony that blazed in his gut.

Paws scratching at the door's latch, Stefan pushed the reinforced slab of steel and concrete back, his strength barely capable of giving him the room to slip through the gap. It took double the effort to push it back shut again. Sliding to the ground, back to the door and panting for every breath that he could, Stefan finally took a moment to just sit and be still. Though war was rearing its ugly head outside, the dog allowed himself to collect his thoughts and make sure he was in control. Panic pumped through his veins with every heartbeat and his mind kept turning to the possibility of death. He knew not how it'd feel or how he'd ultimately go, but he was sure as hell terrified of what would await him once the blackness consumed him. He did not want to die. Sure, he knew the risks when he'd taken the mission, but that didn't mean he wanted to die...

~ ~ ~

Ten months before:

"My answer is still no."

Across a rickety table that had seen better days, crisscrossed with knife marks and stained from where particularly pungent food had since lain before for far too long, sat Stefan. His one good arm, the right, had its paw placed rather plainly in his lap, as though there was no indignation whatsoever. The other, a robotic construction of his own devising, softly whirred and clicked as its motors reacted to errant synapses flaring upon the fleshy stub of where his limb had once existed. One of his first great inventions for the twentieth century, all spurred on by having his arm amputated after contracting gangrene. Though his appearance was placidly disarming, his face belied his true feelings, his lips fixed in a vicious snarl and his eyes set with a dangerous glare. In the quiet, rustic kitchen, he stared down the man sitting opposite him with a look that would have killed him stone dead were it remotely lethal.

"Need I remind you that you're technically a defected enemy? I could have you locked up if I so much as believe that you're up to something."

The man was an aging Shetland Sheepdog, probably well into his fifties, judging by the greying fur that tinged his muzzle, with a gaze that told a dark tale, beneath all the fury that burnt quietly behind the pupils. Dressed impeccably in his full uniform, the dog clenched his paw upon the table into a fist, the tendons trembling as contained himself, perhaps for his own benefit. Stefan was not moved though. He was tired of this war, tired of being a part of it, and tired of finding himself wrapped up in some conspiracy regardless of how hard he tried to keep away from it all. To the average eye, it would have seemed as if destiny itself had a vendetta against the poor canine, determined to place him in the broil so that he could suffer and cause suffering. But he'd left that all behind, and for as much as destiny tried to pull him back in, he resisted just as much.

"Then lock me up. I don't care. You seem to think you have some sort of leverage on me, but you don't. I am not a stupid man, Michael."

"That's General Vunter, to you, runt." Though he had resisted before, the old dog couldn't control himself any longer and he rose from his seat, straightening himself out and puffing up his chest, "By refusing this mission, you'll be signing the death certificates for millions of good, honest men, family men; Men with wives and children back home, who will also suffer too if the Supreme actually manage to invade. You'll lengthen this war tenfold by refusing... Are you really going to be that heartless?"

"I didn't start this war, nor am I somehow responsible for everyone else's lives." Stefan stood up too, though his expression was blending into a blank, cold mask, "That's your job, not mine. If you'll excuse me, I have work to be doing - work which is already benefitting this slaughter anyhow."

As Stefan made to leave, the general could not help but get the last word in, shouting at the German Shepherd's retreating back,

"I will have you shot for this, do you hear me? You selfish, petty cowa-!"

The door slammed shut before Stefan allowed him the privilege of finishing his insult. He let out a weak sigh, his whole body sagging under the weight of it all. The pressure was getting to him. This was the third official they've sent now, and they were getting increasingly aggressive and more and more persuasive. They were even sweetening the deal at this point, keen to grease the canine's paws just enough to coerce him into undertaking their little 'assignment'. Though it was no small favour they asked of him. Arguably, Stefan would have said it was the most dangerous, risky, and petrifying thing he'd ever heard in his life. His rejection meant the deaths of many others, men not unlike himself who were just as much afraid of dying upon a ruined battlefield, but he just couldn't bring himself to say yes. He had fled the Eastern Continent for a reason. No more would he contribute to the Feline Supreme's crusade for world domination.

Walking through the fort's narrow corridors, Stefan made his way back to his small office they'd manage to fashion him out of a forgotten cupboard. It was remarkable that they had even been able to fit a desk in there at all, let alone anything else, but they were keen for him to at least work during his stay at Fort Gemino. After having been abducted in a staged kidnapping, the dog was now a guest of the Western Continent's ruling power, the Unified People. Whilst he had grown up in the Eastern Continent, living in a small rural farm with his parents, Stefan had been picked and groomed by the Supreme to be a brilliant scientist, a mind they wielded to construct them new weapons to throw at their enemies. For a while, he had looked past the ethics of it all. He didn't want to concern himself with the nagging thought of what exactly his work was being used for, but the less he dwelt on it, the better he felt. Any more thought given to the prospect and he'd lose sleep over it, plagued by savage nightmares. But he couldn't have held off the bad dreams forever. All it had taken was an intercepted rebel report of a hospital having been levelled by a bomb - a bomb he had personally engineered and tested - with hundreds dead. Amongst the deceased was a group of school children from a nearby temple where they'd been hiding for the past week, only to have been forced out by shelling. Stefan wasn't quite sure what followed in the days after, but one memory stung in his mind of vomiting over a toilet bowl, sobbing in his own filth as his conscious imploded in on itself, leaving behind an empty shell that quickly filled with insurmountable guilt. It took nearly a year more of stalling his research and evading difficult questions from his superiors before the guilt drove him to the edge. Suicide was not an option, there was little opportunity, but the potential for freedom that lay just across the ocean spurred Stefan on to hope. It didn't take him long to contact the enemy, though they were sceptical of his story at first, but after a few leaked secrets they were more than willing to expend a squad of highly trained soldiers to kidnap him and bring him back to the Western Continent.

Fort Gemino had been his home now for just under a month. Given only a week's recovery before the bombardment began, he had settled into the quaint little fortress well, as if he'd been at home there before. It was an unusual construction, a place that was designed more for a medieval siege than the modern warfare which scrapped the land now; the fort had its own natural moat, for it had been built on an island set in the centre of a lake. Only a single bridge connected it to the outside and to the rest of the world, but even then the nearest town was an hour's drive away. The dense woodland that swarmed about the lake was thick, teeming with wildlife, and gave them a blanket of cover that seemed almost impenetrable. Of course, whilst the fort lay close enough to the coast to act as a haven to all incoming troops, its minute size and location far across the Northern Continent's borders made it an unlikely target, not unless the Supreme were to suddenly decide that they were to invade in a monumental surge. It was not the jewel of the Unified Forces' defences, it served enough purpose to place individuals of importance there, be they spies, defectors, or politicians. Stefan was currently occupying the building with a squad of soldiers who'd been pulled from the front line with a kidnapped captain from the Supreme. Suffice to say he found that walking around the fort with the tiger constantly in his periphery shooting daggers at him with filthy looks was an unsettling experience. After all, he was a traitor, whether he was doing the right thing or not.

Stefan rounded a corner, not quite looking where he was going, slamming into someone else heading in the opposite direction. For the dog, it was equal to running headfirst into a wall, losing his balance and toppling backwards with frantic steps attempting to right himself. He would have careened straight to the floor were it not for a quick paw that lunged out and seized his lapel, yanking him to a halt at an angle to the floor. His head jerked from the sudden stop, his clothes tight as he hung in his saviour's grip.

"Careful there," a stern voice announced, the paw grasping Stefan's collar lifting him back upright, "You ought to watch where you're going." When the dog was finally standing on his footpaws, he brusquely shrugged off the saving paws, dusting himself down before looking up at whom he'd bumped into.

Above him, standing at probably just a foot or so taller, was a long face, striped black and white, with an impressive mane that extended even further upwards adding the illusion of a greater height. Before him was a zebra, an unusual sight to see given that most of the drafted foreign troops and mercenaries such as the equine or ursine legions had been sent straight to the front lines to buff up numbers; typically all he saw around the fort were wolves, dogs, and foxes. Very few other species ever graced these walls, yet here stood someone who had probably not too long been living a peaceful life out in the Southern Continent and its isles. Stefan decided it'd be best to take in every detail - an opportunity to meet and study variant species was rare. Up until the war, species had refrained from interacting in primal fear of one another. Historians chalked it up to some ancient tribal superstitions, but Stefan did not care for the past.

The zebra's expression contradicted the voice that had spoken. Whilst Stefan had heard the tone of someone deep and threatening, a sharp twinkle to blue eyes spoke of quicker wit and softness. An expression, the canine noted with some caution, which did not belong on the face of someone donning a uniform. Whoever stood before him was of a good rank, a captain if he wasn't mistaken, and held himself with an air of collectedness, paws at ease behind his back and legs slightly apart. His build was also something quite foreboding, perhaps being near enough triple in mass than the German Shepherd with muscle. The thug type then, Stefan concluded. Someone who'd worked his way through the ranks not on cleverness but on privilege and brawn alone. Not someone he liked to associate with, more so that he was with the Unified command.

"You should watch out for those half your size," Stefan spat back, his real paw running over the lukewarm metal of his left arm, checking for breakages or scuffs. Soft green lights glowed through the brackets and cogs: everything was fine. That was at least a relief. His robotyk prosthetic was a damn sight harder to repair than a flesh wound.

"I always am, Dr Wolfgang."

Stefan shot the zebra a chilling glare. He hated being referred to by his title, particularly so by anyone connected to the Unified Forces. His name was Stefan, not Doctor. Being a scientist was his past self, and whilst he continued his non-violent research for the sake of finding some aid to the war effort, he refused to let himself return to his old ways.

"Don't you dare call me that..." he said icily, voice dripping with venom. He let himself square up to the brute who was twice his size, looking up his chest to the bemused zebra's muzzle, "Do it again, and I'll rip your balls off..." To make his point clear, Stefan brought up his iron paw, clenching down upon it suddenly. Metal tendons snapped taut, levers and gears working to tighten the whole contraption shut with stunning force that rung out in the narrow corridor. The scrape of metal against metal screeched to everyone's ears and even managed to make the behemoth flinch, if only slightly. For Stefan, it was enough to know he had some semblance of power on his side.

"Point taken, Stefan," the mystery man placated, "But I will just say that I'd love to see you try..." A smarmy grin peeled across the zebra's lips, one that the dog immediately wanted to smack off. He was almost tempted to, bringing his raised robotyk paw back for a devastating blow, before someone behind him cut him off.

"Ah, Dr Wolf- Stefan! I see you've met your liaison, Stefan."

General Vunter strode up behind them, looking as though he'd cooled off somewhat, though Stefan could still see the lingering rage flickering behind the man's eyes. The dog didn't press it,

"Liaison? What for?"

"Allow me, sir, I think you've raised your blood pressure enough for today." the zebra stepped in, holding up a paw to General Vunter. The old canine made a grunting huff, but dismissed himself, not before chipping in over his shoulder,

"You'd better explain to him what's happening, Colin. We need to move soon."

"What's happening?" Stefan repeated, mouthing the words as though they were foreign to his lips, "Moving soon? What the hell is going on? Who are you? 'Colin'?"

A paw was placed around his shoulder, forcibly moving him away from the direction of Vunter who retreated in the distance towards the fort's exterior. Stefan was not happy about being herded like some child, trying his best to resist the man's pull, but the grasp on his shoulder was too strong to fight back against. As he was led deeper into the building, he was introduced to his supposed kidnapper,

"You can just call me Colin, no point in rank, eh?" Stefan didn't respond, staring viciously at the zebra with an unamused expression. Though it unsettled the stallion, he continued all the same as though the dog was fine with being manhandled through the fort, "I've been assigned to you as your liaison for your assignment."

Assignment? The word flared up burning fury in the pit of Stefan's gut. How many times must he say no, and now they were going to send him anyway? He threw off Colin's hold with brutal intensity, his robotyk arm lunging at the male's chest and shoving him away. Colin staggered back a few steps as Stefan edged away from him, the canine in the beginnings of hyperventilating as he let anger course through his blood,

"I'm not going on any fucking assignment." The words were cut and sliced with dangerous intent as they shot from Stefan's muzzle, his eyes glossed over in crushing rage. His glare paled the old general's quite easily, leaving Colin in the crosshairs of the incensed German Shepherd.

"Now just wait!" Colin held up calm paws, doing his best to diffuse the situation which was already gaining a few curious glances from fellow soldiers and scientists moving through the compound, "You haven't heard what I have to say."

"Let me guess; lives are at stake, I could bring an end to the war, save thousands if not millions of civilians and troops, be hailed as a hero for all of history! Am I right? How close am I to your little spiel?" Stefan made to leave, ready to storm off and lock himself in his little broom closet until the whole damn war would be done with and a victor chosen. Bile rose up in his throat as he let his anger get the better of him, leaving a sour taste upon his tongue. He didn't care whether they were going to try and force him to go, the answer was no. Stefan had plenty of means of resisting... even if it meant a last resort to end it all...

"No, not that spiel, Stefan."

The dog stopped in his tracks, though he couldn't quite understand why. But the zebra's tone was so resolute and sombre, as if it was a great burden to him that he had something else to say to him. Stefan couldn't figure out why, nothing could ever be that dark that you'd hesitate from saying it. If it was another desperate plea for him to take the assignment, then what else could they throw at him? He turned around slowly, head looking back over his shoulder as he regarded the sorry looking captain who seemed even defeated in standing there, waiting for the dog's response,

"Then what? They sent you, didn't they? Surely there is nothing else that can be said to try and persuade me..."

"Nobody sent me, Stefan. I requested to be assigned to this personally." Again, the sobering voice was there, nothing like the warmer cheek from earlier. Stefan stepped back around, facing the man properly,

"Why?"

"Because I believe this assignment is our only hope. And I believe you are special, Stefan, whether you see it for yourself or not." The German Shepherd snorted, holding back his derisive laughter, but the zebra held firm, "You can mock, but my brother was amongst those who rescued you. You survived against all odds without so much as an injury, straight from the heart of the Supreme's territory... I do not feel that that is mere luck. Somebody is looking over you." Stefan did chuckle this time, though softly as it was he couldn't help it. He put a paw to his forehead, rubbing it as he shook his head with a bemused smile,

"You speak of gods to a man of science... Am I expected to suddenly have a revelation and throw myself back into the jaws of the beast because you have a 'feeling'?" He waved a dismissive paw at the zebra, "You're wasting your time, Colin. Nothing could ever make me go back."

He turned once more to walk away, and whilst he managed a few steps leaving, he heard the battling voice of Colin start up once more, urgently trying to reason with the dog,

"Have you no heart? Are you truly that dead to the suffering of others - suffering that _you've_caused - that you refuse to help fix some of the damage you've done? Whether you want to or not, my superiors will throw you back to the Supreme. You cooperating is now just a bonus to the assignment... the plans have changed."

"Changed how?" Stefan asked, stopping again but not turning around. He wasn't going to waste much more time on this petty desperation. He heard hooves trot up behind him as Colin closed the distance, talking in a quiet hush so that no one would overhear,

"Falsified intelligence will be placed on your person. When the Supreme capture you, they'll believe you escaped with it from us, put you back to work and fall into a trap that's being set. From there, you can either be executed if you don't work for them, or work for them regardless. Though we'll miss out on the opportunity to have a mole in their network, we can make up for the loss in other ways..." Colin leant down close to talk straight into Stefan's ear, speaking so delicately that the level of it startled the dog, "I don't want that though... You are a good man, Stefan. I refuse to believe you're cold at heart." A soft paw rubbed along his good arm, the sensation sending shivers up the canine's limb. The whole feeling reverberated in his body, a gentle tingling that had him twitching his fingers as Colin's presence very much nearly engulfed him in the tight space.

"You can't make me... You can't force me to go; it'll be a death sentence!" Stefan pleaded. He knew what the Unified Forces was doing was risky, allowing him back into the enemy's grasp without cooperation, but he was a toxic individual. The longer he remained as a prisoner of war, working for their side, the likelier somebody would get annoyed, be it the public on their side or the superiors on the enemy's. He was fast entering into a stalemate where his choices were dwindling. Gone were the months of stalling and refusals. Now all he had was limited days of negotiation. "I don't want to die..."

"I don't want you to die either, nobody does, but if you work with us... then there's a chance you can come out of this alive..." Stefan was on the edge of sobbing. He didn't want to go. When he'd first been approached about the mission, he'd never wanted to go. They wanted him to be a mole, a spy within the ranks of the Supreme, feeding back information to the Forces whilst he bled false information to the enemy. Supposedly, it'd cut the war by up to a decade, bringing about a swifter end. But Stefan was one man, certainly no soldier or spy at that. He failed to believe that he alone could topple the Supreme's war effort through passive actions. He'd be killed soon before he even began to see a potential end to the bitter fighting. He felt weak, his eyes stinging with the threat of new tears.

"I wish to be alone," he managed to mutter, pulling himself away from the zebra's warm hold, "It's late and I need to sleep."

"Stefan..." Colin's voice carried reluctant warning, "You can't run away from this. You have less than a month to agree to cooperate and train. The sooner you give in, the better the chances you'll have at surviving this..."

"I need to sleep." He kept his tone hardened, keeping the emotions from seeping through and belying his true thought, though anyone should have seen that he was distraught. His hunched shoulders and hanging head told enough that he was ashamed and humiliated - broken, even. Colin let out a quiet sigh,

"Very well. At least let me take you to your quarters then and insure nobody else pesters you about this. I know Vunter would love to gloat that he's finally got you after months of clerical fuck-ups."

Stefan didn't even resist as the strong paw was once again placed around his shoulders, leading him away. It was all happening too suddenly, as though every worst nightmare he'd ever had was coming true. Though even then, that wasn't quite the case. He had dreams of moments like this, moments where he'd been abandoned and left for dead, whether that was from a clan of wolves in the middle of some forest, or by some lover on a farm. Each time he'd simply been left to struggle, caught in the nightmare until he woke up in a heavy sweat. Stefan always feared the isolation, the knowledge that he was trapped in some unforgiving environment that would swallow him whole and chew him into tiny little pieces were he to give it half a chance. Now he would live it, going back into the Supreme's territory and returning to their ranks as a scientist who would bring about death to millions. He'd be the metaphorical lamb surrounded by wolves... though how far that was from his current situation was questionable.

A reassuring squeeze at his shoulder made him look up, straight into those luxurious blue eyes of a man who'd just doomed his world not a few moments ago, and yet he'd never felt safer. Stefan sighed, resigning to his fate. He'd stand firm to his refusal, even if it meant death, but he would keep his integrity intact.

~ ~ ~

Present day:

A loud bang and hollered shouts sounded out from the corridor beyond the safety door. Stefan glanced at it, wondering whether it would be friend or foe. Already he felt himself unconsciously reaching for a discarded pistol that lay on the floor, his training kicking in. Capture was not an option. Death would save the war effort. People would live to fight another day, even if one did not.

Fists slammed against the door, fingers scrambling to work the latch. Stefan could see the lock rattling as someone attempted to make their way inside. He waited with silent breaths, his own paw tightening its grip around the pistol's handle, finger snaking its way across the trigger. The sleek metal muzzle was placed to the side of his head, the coldness spiking out against his fur. Soon, in a few moments, a small explosion within the pistol's chamber would send a tiny metal bullet careening through his head, tearing away soft flesh and brittle bone as though it were nothing but paper. It would end his life, taking down every secret he ever had with him.

A silent tear rolled down Stefan's cheek as he realised this could very well be the end. An end he had hoped to avoid, as he had never wished to have to die at his own paw. Suicide was always the last resort that much he knew, but that didn't make it any easier to swallow. His body felt numb and cold, his strength slipping away with every passing second, his blood stretching out across the floor in a lazy puddle. It would be a quicker demise if he would shoot himself. His paw tightened on his gut, the metal pushing against the wound. It was painful, but it could keep him going for just a bit longer. Life was too precious to pass up so quickly. He would wait for this intruder...

But fate was not on his side. The room was growing colder with every second he waited, and he could no longer feel or sense the walls around him. It felt like they were falling away, opening up into some dark chasm that surrounded him. The gunfire and explosions became a distant sound as his mind drifted into this nether realm. He didn't even realise he was doing it until it was too late to stop. When he snapped back into focus, he found himself sat upon ice, the ground wet and frozen to his touch. His blood stained the snow in the same pool, but his wound felt alleviated, as if the pain no longer existed. Stefan took his paw away from his side and inspected what should have been fatal damage. There was nothing there though, just a mere rip in his shirt where he'd been shot. The flesh had healed and the fur grown back. Not even a scar remained. Stefan wondered for a moment if he'd actually died, that he was now in some sort of limbo, that perhaps his scepticism towards deities was unfounded. He glanced about his surroundings, seeing nothing in the empty blackness except the lingering falls of snow, sharp winds whipping at his fur, and a permeating chill that sunk into his bones. Stefan got to his footpaws and make a staggered attempt to stand upright, surveying his situation. Was he dead? He felt cold enough for it, but surely he couldn't be conscious of his own end?

Footfalls were approaching, crunching through the snow and compacting ice beneath something's weight; Stefan looked about himself to find the source. But the dark was too thick to see, too dense to make anything out. Even as the dog reached out blindly into the snowing mist, it gave him no greater sight or sense of what was around him. The footfalls were loud and thick to his ears, his only faculty that seemed to be working to his benefit, but even then he still could not determine the location or direction of the sounds. It was only when Stefan felt an icy prickle against the back of his neck did he realise where the origin was. The cold did not send his spine fluttering with alarmed nerves. He knew the sensation well, a feeling he'd had many times working for the Feline Supreme. The feeling of a predator stalking its prey, right upon their heels and waiting, skulking, biding their time until the defences are lowered and an opportunity presents itself. Stefan was familiar with the sensation for he'd experienced it whenever his superior, the ultimate superior, had come to check on his little pet genius.

"Dr Wolfgang..." A foreign accent snarled with a smooth, indelicate tone. It was the voice of someone without a trace of innocence or mercy, a voice that belonged only to a monster, "Fancy meeting you here."

"Master Jon" Stefan said in a levelled manner, trying to bleach the fear from his throat, "You should have called."

"I should not need to call, Dr Wolfgang, you know that..." The German Shepherd turned around to meet the face of a lion, a thick, soft mane billowing from around a rounded face, a stout muzzle, and a piercing gaze. In front of him, smothered in just a grazing of snow across the shoulders and atop the head, was Master Jon, leader of the Supreme and crusader for genetic purity across the planet in the name of the Guardians. Some superstitious nonsense, Stefan was fairly sure, but the madman had managed to convince an entire nation that his words were true, that he spoke for gods beyond them and that they, the feline genus, were born to rule. The absurdity somehow was overwhelmed by primal fear as Jon's forces seized control of the continent. From there it had been hell.

"I apologise, Master. What can I do for you?"

Master Jon closed the gap between them, moving out of the darkness and into the circle of light Stefan found himself in. The lion's features became clearer, the slight scar that ran down his face, the snarl of his lips as he scrutinised the dog's appearance, all bright as day before Stefan. One claw was raised to his chin, running up his jaw line and towards the side of his head. Throughout Jon's inspection, he kept perfectly still, not wanting to make any move that would aggravate the frail man's mind and give him reason to lash out. Jon seemed content enough that Stefan's face was in order, though why he had no idea, and he stepped away, circling the canine. As any predator would...

"How is your work going on your latest research regarding Project Contact?" Stefan swallowed back the lump of anxiety in his throat. The sole reason he had fled the Supreme once more, abandoned the mission... Project Contact...

"It's going well, Master. We are continuing to isolate and examine the energy's frequencies and soon we predict that we'll be capable of locating its source. Once we discover what the energy is, the Unified Forces shan't stand a chance." It was difficult for Stefan to maintain composure, particularly under all the stress. It had been months of suffering under the Supreme's constant watch. Every message sent out was another nerve plucked and tangled into the web of lies that he had to constantly keep up. He was no skilled spy. He had barely any training aside from basics. He was an amateur attempting to fool the professionals - even the experts.

"Good... I don't suppose they've also discovered the signals from the Guardians, have they?"

"I beg your pardon, Master?" Stefan's voice quivered, just a slight touch, but it was enough to have Jon's face snap directly in front of his, his nose mere centimetres from his own,

"The Unified Forces!" Jon growled, spittle flying from his lips and splattering across Stefan's face. He didn't dare move though, sufficing himself to flinch. He let Jon carry on in his tirade, "Do you suppose they've learnt of the mysterious emanations from the ice caps?"

"I wouldn't believe so, Master... They are foolish, mindless dolts. No scientist of theirs is smart enough to even consider the possibility of another energy..." Stefan's paws were sweaty, clammy from the fear of being discovered. He wished he were dead, rather than here in this purgatory, facing off against the beast from hell that bore down upon him with burning eyes. Malicious intent lay behind them, waiting to be unleashed when given the right moment. Any second, and the predator would burst free.

"Then why do you suppose they've increased naval patrols around the Arctic Strait? There is nothing of use up there other than miles of frozen wasteland... except for the Guardians' calling." Jon's voice lowered to a deadly whisper, the sounds punctuated and cutting, "You see I have a sneaking suspicion someone's been leaking them intelligence regarding the calling." Stefan had to control himself, force his body not to quake under the strain,

"An interesting theory Master, but who would dare do such a thing?" Jon laughed. It was the worst possible thing for him to do. Stefan stood there, unable to act, only able to watch and wait for his 'leader' to gut him where he stood for betraying the Supreme. The laughter lasted a lifetime, an eternity, going on and on, until it was all that rang in Stefan's ears. When it finally did stop, only the cold, dead voice of the lion's broke through the dark snow,

"I find it very curious that you were abducted so easily, only to then escape just as quickly to return to work... all within a matter of months. You know, it's taken some of my best men years to find their way home again, making many sacrifices along the way. But you return to my side unharmed, bright-eyed and keen to work once more." Jon's eyes slowly drifted across and fixed on Stefan's terrified gaze, "You know how I don't believe in coincidences... The Guardians have their enemies, after all..."

"It seems no one believes in coincidence..." Stefan muttered under his breath, though whether Jon heard or not seemed irrelevant. The lion made no recognition of it, perhaps because he was enrapt with unravelling Stefan's sanity,

"So, Dr Wolfgang... you might as well give up."

"Master?" The canine's voice quivered. Fear was winning.

"Give up, Steven," Jon approached him, an axe in his paws, though where from Stefan had no idea. "Give up and give it to me..."

"Give what to you?" Stefan said, taking a tentative step back from the hunched form of the lion, whose eyes had now darkened to pools of consuming black and his mane haggard. A low, menacing voice that no longer seemed quite so normal, or even Jon's, spoke out,

"Give me the orb..."

~ ~ ~

Nine months before:

Before the door even had chance to swing shut, Colin's lips were pressed against Stefan's. Hot breath washed across the dog's muzzle as the zebra held them tight together, tongue already beginning to invade past the mouth and searching deeper inside the canine. Stefan could do nothing but wrestle back as best he could, unable to fend off an easy domination of strength. They were staggering back, moving towards the well-used bed that sat at the centre of the room. A queen's size, a luxury for most, but a necessity for the stallion whose natural mass had demanded the extra space and support. Though when they were both upon the sheets, it mattered little how big the bed itself was, only that it could survive their regular nightly rituals.

Stefan had found it remarkable that the zebra had worked his magic so swiftly. One night spent together had led to soft kissing, making out for tender minutes as they lay side by side, until the next night became more adventurous... paws roaming across naked bodies, scars traced and talked about in hushed whispers, stories told of tragedies that were best forgotten. Colin shared his dark times as a humble private with the good doctor, whilst Stefan had in kind opened up about his work enabling the Supreme to devastate the world as they did today. A week later, and the dog found himself pressed against the mattress, the zebra's weight climbing up behind him and his virginity being taken...

"Is this your first time?" Stefan had been scared. He'd heard of homosexuals, but they'd just been a curiosity of his, something to study in his spare time. It fascinated him to think that members of one species could ignore and completely disregard the need to procreate, to continue to life of the breed, but yet they still existed - consistently, too. The Supreme rejected all such notions, though the Unified Forces remained ambivalent and ignorant to the whole issue. One would kill any who dared try, whilst the other pretended not to notice. When Stefan found himself beginning to get intimate with Colin it was... terrifying. Yet he couldn't help himself. Each night the zebra came to his room, talked to him, then before he could even have a chance to realise what was going on, he'd invited the man into the bed and stripped off. For a man of science, the level to which his nature took over shocked him. Stefan had never even had these feelings for a woman, let alone a man, so he had chosen to mimic the Forces' approach and pretend as though nothing wrong was happening. It was working, at least for the time being...

Rough paws were already tugging at shirt, pulling it free from his body. His slender chest was exposed to the damp evening air, his heart thundering in his chest. He couldn't help but remember their first night, when Colin had finally persuaded Stefan to raise his tail, and the feelings of pain and pleasure all at once and much too soon. He shivered at the thought of it, just as Colin, ripped away his own vest,

"Everything alright?" he asked softly, the voice soothing, as if honey had been dribbled across tongue to make his words even sweeter. Stefan had tasted that tongue though. For as much as his dulcet tones could calm and reassure him, the zebra had a very distinct musk and potent flavour.

"Y-yeah..." Stefan managed to stutter, his eyes looking down the zebra's bared, tattered chest, and towards the bulge that sat at his crotch. He swallowed carefully, knowing what lay down there sleeping, soon to rise up and beg for attention from him in any way it could get it. "Just a bit nervous... Still getting used to this whole thing..." Even if Stefan were to refuse now, to say enough is enough, he knew Colin would have his way with him. The zebra was very persuasive. He knew every button to push on the German Shepherd to get the desired response.

"It's okay," Colin said in that disarming tone, "Just relax."

Relax Stefan did, his body easing up under the zebra's massaging paws. He was lowered into a seated position on the edge of the bed as Colin knelt down, knees scuffing against the dusty floorboards. His fingers were already reaching out for the dog's buckle, undoing the belt and tugging apart the fly of his trousers. Stefan didn't fight back as he let the stallion undress him, yanking off his heavy boots followed by peeling away the trousers. Cold air rushed against the fur of his legs, airing the fibres out from their clammy confines. It left the dog with a small shudder, but his attention was more fixated on what the zebra was doing next. Though with one paw he undid his own belt, unzipping his fly and pulling out the heavy mound of his junk, his other saw more interest in cupping and stroking over the dog's crotch. Stefan couldn't resist the urges of his body as pre wetted the cotton of his boxers, staining in a small splotch where the opening to his sheath was. Blood throbbed within his body as chemistry and physiology worked in unison to achieve arousal. Colin rubbed a single digit over where the dampness was spreading, stroking over the small nub that was pushing its way free of the sheath. Stefan twitched each time he scraped against the delicate head, making the dog bite his lip in anticipation and anxiety of what was soon to follow.

The zebra took it upon himself to relieve them both of their underwear. Whilst he continued to wear his own, Colin pulled down the waistband of his jock and hooked it under his balls, letting the meaty log of his cock and fat balls swing free in the open air. Already Stefan could smell the thick stench of sweat and pre, an insatiable desire to switch the situation and get down to his own knees and swallow the member whole. It frightened him to think that such thoughts and needs had always existed beneath all the intelligence that frothed in his mind, waiting for someone to come prod the animal inside him with a stick. A fat, hung stick...

Meanwhile, Colin pulled the dog's boxers off completely, leaving Stefan utterly nude in the captain's bedroom. The German Shepherd's sheath and balls were exposed, the soft tan and brown of his fur blending seamlessly as his groin joined his belly, the fur coarser at the pubic bone and then dwindling in a trail up his abdomen. Colin's fingers, large as they were, combed slowly through the fur, brushing along the dog's contours until he returned once more to the sheath; by now, a head of pink had pushed its way out into the air, followed by a rapidly swelling shaft that soon made up the rest of Stefan's cock. All that remained was the fattening knot that Colin had to prise out from past the sheath's edges, giving Stefan to sit back at full mast, his dick throbbing with pre dribbling down its underside as his tip leaked. He watched it with some bizarre fascination, mesmerised by its movements and how closely they matched his own. He could even measure his pulse with every throb and twitch his member made, deepening his breath to a slow, drawn out haze that was mixed with an unknown lust. There was nothing he could do except lean back on his paws, body reclining at a pleasant angle, and watch as Colin's maw came up close to his shaft. A black tongue extended out, flicking along sensitive flesh and dragging up the spire until it came to the very top. The single motion alone had Stefan on edge, having very little relief besides his midnight romps with the stallion, and his breathing hastened and then hitched. Leathery lips opened up to take the head between them, closing down around the girth and sucking the meat into the zebra's muzzle. His mouth crept open into a silent gasp, panting softly as he watched his lover guzzle down his cock with practised ease.

The size difference was impossible to ignore. Whilst Colin was able to take the German Shepherd's five slim inches without so much as batting an eyelid in his maw, Stefan could not ignore the shaft of ebony that glistened in the lamplight, swollen and already thickening to an tremendous degree. Already as thick as an arm, Stefan's bite on his lip grew stronger. He knew what things that monster could do, his ass already burning from the thought of it entering him. But tonight would be the last night before he'd never see Colin again, to have a chance to indulge in this secret persona of himself that had been cultivated so far. He would go all out tonight, even if it broke him.

Colin slurped up along the dog's cock, lips traipsing down the tender flesh and seeking out the knot. A rasping tongue hooked around that fat orb and suckled on the sweet juices that covered it, tugging and pulling at its base to make Stefan moan with short bursts that the zebra found delectably cute. Stefan was not sure what to think about being called cute. He had always expected that when it came to find a mate, he would be called 'handsome' or 'charming', that if it ever became carnal he would be everything a female could ever want. 'Cute' had never come into his mind whenever he'd thought of this, nor had 'sweet' or 'feminine', yet Colin insisted he was all these things and more. It had even been the crux of the zebra's campaign to convince the canine to accept the assignment, that he was too much of a good man to let others suffer, to not attempt to at least stunt the war for some time so that others may live, see their families, their children. His 'cute' nature, his 'sweet' heart' and his 'feminine' disposition made him out to be the best of men, according to Colin, and that the zebra would rather be nowhere else but by Stefan's side through it all. It had all the makings of a true love story, of a romantic tale of two far flung lovers returning to one another's side after a gruelling war.

So Stefan agreed, moaning cutely once more as Colin pulled off his length with a slow, languid move. His cock throbbed with desperate need to cum, but the feeling abated quickly without the zebra's warm, moist muzzle wrapped around it. The German Shepherd shifted up further onto the bed, his footpaws leaving the squeaking floorboards as he settled himself upon starchy sheets. Colin rose to his hooves, thumbs hooking on his waistband and now properly pulling down his pants, jock and all. Stefan watched quietly, catching his breath, as the sensational sight of Colin's black and white pelt came into view, his crotch centred in a field of crisp light hair. The edges around his cock were leathered, leading up to the rough skin of his erection. Hanging orbs swung below the massive member, already promising to leave the dog painted in thick goo by the dawning sun. As Colin took a step forward, lowering one knee against the bed, his weight dipping the mattress, Stefan reached instinctively with timid paws for the male's endowment. Stefan missed the leering smile that plastered the zebra's muzzle, as his concentration was fixed on the cock before him. He took a hold of it with both paws, neither capable of reaching round it entirely. Its fat length bobbed with its own natural weight, whilst firm and definitely hard, but still suffering from mild softness as it couldn't maintain absolute rigidness. It swung as if it had a mind of its own, every slight movement from Colin sending it into a bouncing arc that teased Stefan's muzzle. As he leant forward, not entirely sure how best to proceed, the meaty weight would slap against his muzzle, pre smeared into his cheeks and lips. Reflexively, Stefan would lick his lips clean, only to sample the first beginnings of a taste he knew all too well.

Colin put his other leg forwards, settling himself to kneel on the bed, practically straddling Stefan's chest as he thrust his crotch forwards for the dog's maw. The heat and smell was smothering the dog's senses, sending him wild inside from all the hormones and pheromones that toyed with his system. He could not deny his primal side any longer; he opened his mouth and took the flare into his maw, the juices already staining his tongue and leaving him with acute saltiness. He let his throat open up, finally finding a purpose for having no gag reflex, and let Colin slide his way inside as though Stefan's oesophagus was made for him. Though it should have worried the dog, his paw ran over the bulge Colin left in his neck where the fat length pushed in, filling him out. His jaw stretched to accommodate what was being fed to him, and though it ached badly Stefan didn't so much as make a move to stop the zebra. He'd since abandoned logic and reason, letting his urges guide his actions now. His urges wanted him to suck and to guzzle everything that was put between his lips by this man, to provide as much pleasure as he could, to be rewarded with the goodness he knew awaited him if he were patient and good enough at what he was doing. As Colin began to move back and forth down his throat, filling up every crevice of his muzzle, Stefan blushed and groaned contentedly, the fire burning within him dulled, if only for the time being. The thick length slid along his mouth, pulling back to leave a sticky trail of pre across his tongue, only to slide back deeper down into the caressing throat. It reminded Stefan of his place, of what it was he was doing, and he didn't dare deny that he loved it. Each time he would blush even darker, moan just a little louder, all to pleas and impress the captain that gazed down at his swollen face, stuffed full of man meat.

A paw was placed on the side of Stefan's head, taking over the dog's movements of bobbing his head back and forth. Instead, Colin took over, matching thrusts to moving the canine in time with them. As he drew back, so too did Stefan, only to return once more as Colin slid back inside. Stefan closed his eyes as the zebra took control, breathing sharply through his nose and focusing on every single sensation he possible could. His paws wrapped around his own shaft, teasing the head and stringing the pre around his fingertips as his muzzle was overstuffed with raw zebra meat. Salt sunk into every bud of his mouth, leaving him with nothing else to taste except that of Colin. It was something he made so clear in his mind, his scent, the way his cock felt riding against his tongue, against his cheeks and throat, the way his flare ground against his own flesh. Though it was only the first act, it was very much different to what came after the interlude.

Stefan had half expected Colin to blow his first load in his muzzle, seeding his stomach and leaving his face a mess of sticky gloop and staining jizz. Colin had said he loved seeing the dog like that, covered in a fresh load, tongue lolled out in a happy pant as though begging for more. It roused such demons within the zebra that it often led to an encore performance, where he'd ream the dog's hole once again until it was flooded with a second deposit. It was something about the domination for Colin that he could have such intimate control over another, to watch over and to own, which flared up dark passions in his gut. The practice of homosexuality, whilst not forbidden, was frowned upon, even rejected in some families. Colin had found it hard to keep his desires a secret when all he yearned for was a male like himself, who wished for the same things that he did. To find a fellow gay man was rare, let alone to find one suitable to his questionable tastes... Stefan took a deep breath when the zebra pulled out, spit dribbling from both the dog's chin and Colin's shaft. He would have been almost disappointed had he not known that this only meant a heavier load for his ass. Though it was a racing thought which barrelled around his mind, it did mean once again letting Colin thump at his backdoor and break down a barrier which was anatomically not meant to be broken in that way.

Colin had already seen the apprehension hiding in Stefan's eyes, and he was quick to wave away any hesitating thoughts,

"I'll be gentle, don't worry."

It was Stefan really needed to return to that point where he wanted nothing more than to commit everything to the zebra. Nobody had ever brought up such feelings within him, and it was exhilarating just to submit to the nature of his inner mind. He turned over on the bed, sprawling himself out atop the sheets with his tail raised back to reveal the soft curve of his buttocks. Though he wasn't exactly in the best shape, his arse had a very appealing perkiness to it, according to the zebra who know moved to sit across the dog's calves. Normally one of two things would follow. Sometimes, Colin might skip the pleasantries and go straight for the kill, spreading apart Stefan's cheeks and plunging his head right at his pucker with just a bit of oil to lube the way. It would hurt for a while, but it required very little else in the way of work and more often than not the result was always the same - both had shattering orgasms even if it cost the readiness of round two. However, it seemed Colin was making a special effort tonight, as Stefan felt snuffling breath wash against his taint and cleft, heavy paws groping at his cheeks and prising them apart. Warm air rushed against the dog's hole, leaving him to squirm beneath the male's weight, who pushed his lips up to the winking pucker. Stefan gasped, a high pitched sound that seemed alien even to his mouth, but it sounded out all the same whether he wanted to or not. It was loud, far too loud, as he felt a rough, moist tongue flick and push against the opening to his ass. Stefan told himself to relax, willing himself to ease up and allow entry, trying his best to let the muscles loosen up on their iron grip. With efforts from both sides, it didn't take long until Colin had his muzzle pressed deep into Stefan's behind, tongue scoping out the dog's innards for as much depth as it was rewarded with. The sensation was uncanny to the zebra's kissing, which only brought up the interesting thought to Stefan that Colin was making out with his hole, tenderly loving it with an invading tongue that dominated. It very nearly had him ready to blow, especially when the tongue flicked against that sweet spot he had come to learn as the male 'g-spot' as Colin had called it. He ground back each time they made contact on that sensitive point, but the stallion was already pulling back before Stefan could savour the feeling. With a wet pop and smacking of lips, he heard Colin behind him pull free from between his cheeks. In his head, he could already imagine the damp lips of the zebra, his breath smelling of his own ass, wondering just what exactly it might taste like were he to kiss the man there and then... They were such dirty thoughts that might have shocked him were he paying attention to them.

His focus, however, was placed on the fat cock that slapped itself against his cheeks. Colin let the heavy weight of it drop against his crack, bringing out a satisfying plop as flesh made contact with his fuzzy globes. Stefan's breathing hitched again, his body squirming even more, as he felt the man's body lower itself over his own. The thick muscled chest, littered with scars from skirmishes and firefights, pressed against the soft fur of his back, Colin's mouth nibbling against his nape. One paw took a hold of the zebra's cock, lifting it up and levering it back until the head was rubbing along the cleft, before finally pushing it forwards. The swollen head pressed against the wet hole, and even though Colin had done his best to loosen the way before him, it was still quite a challenge that was presented to Stefan. He ground his teeth together as the stallion pushed with insistent force, refusing to take no for an answer, until the head popped just inside the rim. Stefan howled softly, a pained sound that must have alerted very well what was happening to all those sleeping adjacent to them. Colin cut him off though with a chaste kiss, silencing Stefan's whimper, before whispering into his ear,

"I know it hurts, but give it a minute..." he smiled, Stefan knew he was smiling though he couldn't see the man's muzzle, for his tone reflected it, "You'll like it, I promise." He repeated the words he'd said the first time he'd claimed the dog's hole for his own. Colin slowly traced through his fur on the dog's face, going softly up the jaw line as though summing up the features. Stefan closed his eyes and let himself succumb to the zebra's whim, fighting to find the euphoria he knew hid behind the pain. It was agony, letting those inches of what was the equivalent of a hot poker, slide into his gut. He growled out through the pain, waiting for it to abate so that he could begin to relish the bliss that would follow. It took several thrusts, the zebra taking particular care and slowness so that he didn't damage the dog too much, until finally Stefan felt he could take a breather. His hole was swollen and engorged around the dark length which skewered him open, impaling him upon the large man's body. He felt consumed by the stallion, their paws intertwining, the zebra's legs smothering his own, their bodies pressed tightly together against the bed. Stefan could not reach himself in this position, a favoured position of Colin's, as the only way he'd ever achieve relief was if he gave in fully, taking every ounce of pleasure and committed it to unloading. The itchy starch ground against his oversensitive flesh and made it difficult to come to that though, but Stefan had no doubt he'd release eventually.

His mind zeroed in on the gut-wrenching fucking the cock inside him was delivering. What had once tunnelled a passage down his throat now did the same to his bowels, turning them into a smooth bored hole for Colin to plunder and rut whenever he pleased. The day's before had been difficult. Stefan was a virgin, unused to anything whatsoever entering him behind there, and it had taken much persistence to get him to the level where now, the zebra could breed him savagely without worrying about hurting the canine. Fingers had been tricky at first, as Colin's were too big for beginners, and so under his guidance, Stefan had fingered himself. When ready, he'd then graduated to the zebra's own paw, which was much more pleasurable than his own, which then soon turned to a borrowed carrot from the kitchen, a spare qualiar, anything that might constitute a member. Soon the time had come for Colin to try his own battering ram at the door, and whilst there had been blood and tears in the beginning; they were now fucking like wild animals, not caring who heard. It was a relief to them both - Colin, who had hidden this side of himself way to protect his authority and reputation, and Stefan who had always stuck to his scientific roots to finally break free and do something amazing for a change.

He continued to hammer away at the loose hole, no resistance holding him back and Stefan's delicious moans and huffs filling the air as his ass was reamed. Frothy foam backed up around his rim as pre began to bubble, seeping back out as Colin slammed his way home into the dog's guts. The words from before of gentleness had soon been abandoned when penetration had been achieved and pain dismissed. Just words, Colin's expertise at play, though Stefan knew very well what the zebra was capable of. But he didn't care, not now, as he let his mind savour the sensation of the fat rod lunging into his guts, grinding against his prostate, making him leak all across the bed and his stomach. He writhed beneath Colin's weight but couldn't go anywhere, the rhythmic thumps of his hips slapping against his own buttocks adding a beat to his chorus of groans. The smell was intoxicating, a powerful musk mixed with the scent of love-making. Male seed would soon join that aroma, as one of them would have to buckle soon. Neither had the constitution to last all night, and Stefan feared it might ultimately have to be him to unload first.

But it was Colin, whose thrusts became erratic, that would lose his concentration first. His teeth dug into the dog's neck, suckling upon the soft flesh there and leaving bruises beneath the fur, he began to pant and grunt briskly, and must have been fighting back urges that must have been swelling in his abdomen, just as they did now for Stefan. Whilst his were more subdued, he had no doubt that Colin was fending off a far greater and more overwhelming need to release. The grips on Stefan's paws tightened until the knuckles were white, his legs became more rigid, until he gave out all resistance to the urge. He brayed loudly, roaring into the dog's neck as he unloaded in his guts. Stefan gasped and squealed even as he felt the sudden rush of thick spooge flood into his ass, the flow unhindered and streaming. It was as if someone had turned on a faucet and was filling him up until he was about to explode, then proceeded to fill him up some more. Deeper and deeper he could feel the flood seep, working its way into his guts until he swore he could feel its heat snaking through his colon and intestines. The very thought had him writhing, moaning as he pretended in his mind that he'd been seeded and bred like any bitch in heat, ready to have Colin's foals. Though genetics and anatomy denied it, it was still a romantic and lusty thought for the dog.

Whilst the orgasm died down for the zebra, it didn't stop Colin from milking the ass for every drop he could. He began to rotate his hips, grinding into Stefan's hole to make sure he was as deep as he could go. The fat flare that had swollen and plugged the dog's guts now slid along sensitive walls, scraping and churning the load that sat within him. It had Stefan mewling, whining like a good pup, until Colin could feel the shakes emanating through his overworked body. Though it was a quiet one, as Colin rolled them both back onto their sides, he could see that Stefan had experienced a shuddering orgasm, his climax splattered all across the sheets and up his stomach, soaking the bedding until it was stained darkly. Stefan was mumbling softly to himself, eyes half closed and his mind probably too adrift in euphoric sensations to be rational, so Colin pulled out his cock from the sore ass whilst he had the chance to. Stallion cum rushed out of the stretched hole which desperately sought to clamp shut to hold back the flow, letting just a sample pool out between their legs. Colin let a pleased smile spread across his mouth as he nuzzled into the dog. They could start again shortly, after Stefan had recovered and he recuperated his hardness, but for now the zebra was content to cuddle. Though it was a bittersweet moment, as he, like the German Shepherd beside him, knew that this would be the last night before the assignment.

Though he knew it was for the greater good, Colin had a sinking feeling that once Stefan was gone, all things would go to shit. He didn't want Stefan to leave. He just wanted him to stay beside him forever.

~ ~ ~

Present day:

Stefan felt himself getting pulled away from the winter confrontation. He blinked blearily as he came too, a painful pressure being applied to his gut and a loud voice barking in his ear,

"Wake up!"

It took the dog a moment to recollect where he was, what was happening, and what he'd just seen. Some hallucination, spurred on by bad dreams... He'd passed out. Blood loss, that's right, from a wound.

Stefan snapped his eyes open and shot a look down to his gut. A black and white paw was pressing some rag against his wound, trying to stem the flow of blood that seeped from his guts. He followed the paw up the arm and to the face of his would-be medic, eyes widening at the sight of the familiar man,

"Colin..." The zebra gave a glance at the dog, their eyes catching. His look was grave, misted with tears, but keenly focused on the job at present. He was doing his best to dress and tend to Stefan's wound, though he wasn't doing a very good job at it, he was at least trying. When he had passed out Stefan must have gone lax, forgotten about who was at the door. The pistol beside him had been brushed away, most likely by the stallion as he made his dramatic entry. It was just fortunate that it had in fact been Colin and not an enemy solider; otherwise he'd be in even worse shape than he was now.

"My report... The Supreme... energy signature..." Stefan tried to speak, though he was weak, and he could feel blood and bile stinging his throat. He was cut off though before he could finish his attempt at a sentence, Colin angrily snapping at him,

"Shut up and save it! No time for reports. I need to get you out of here..." Colin was the liaison, and he was still in remarkably good shape. He could get the information to those who knew how to use it. Stefan was a dead man, he knew that much, but at least he'd have Colin by his side in the final moments. That, to him, was of at least a small comfort. Through all the chaos, the fear, and the uncertainty, it had been the thought of seeing Colin again that had kept Stefan going, to persist throughout his little infiltration. If he were honest, he had been selfish. He hadn't done the assignment to help others, to end the war. He'd done it for Colin, to keep him from the front lines, and to one day return to him and be praised as a hero beneath his approving gaze. Selfish and shorts-sighted, but at the very least he'd brought back valuable information on a potential weapon the Supreme were going to attempt to capture. They mustn't be allowed to reach the Arctic.

"Colin... please..."

"Stop it! Just stop it and shut up!" Colin wiped his eyes with his sleeve, smearing blood across his brow as he did so, but managing to get the tears away. Perhaps the zebra did love him back, that their relationship wasn't entirely physical. That was a nice thought to have, Stefan concluded. He could believe then that he had someone special in the end.

His delirious attention was roused by something moving just beyond the safety door. It remained open, most likely from when Colin had managed to successfully unlock it, and the German Shepherd could see out into the corridor beyond. He saw figures moving, figures donning the same uniform he did... Felines. He reached for the pistol sluggishly, trying to strain himself to reach the weapon to defend the position as he warned Colin,

"Enemies... two... o'clock..." He pathetically scrabbled at the pistol before snatching it up, and then proceeded to left off several errant rounds into the corridor. Stefan clipped one soldier in the neck, giving him no alternative but to slump to the ground clutching at where the bullet had grazed his flesh. But he missed all the others. All he truly succeeded in doing was sealing their fate by drawing attention to themselves. Colin lunged to his hooves as he saw the approaching onslaught of soldiers, orders already being bellowed down the hall at them to surrender. He slammed the door shut with his full weight and put the barricade down, not settling until he was sure that nobody was getting in - or out, as he grimly realised.

Dejectedly, he slunk he his way back to Stefan's side, sliding to the floor beside him. They both knew there was no longer a way out for either of them.

"No... back-up?" Stefan asked with shallow breaths. Colin reached for a nearby medical kit which he'd been using to try and patch the dog up. He took out a hypodermic needle, filled with a pale red liquid, which he then injected into Stefan's vein via the inner elbow. The effect was almost immediate as the fluid pumped through his system - a pain killer, something to alleviate his suffering in the final moments.

"No, no back-up," Colin said softly, his tone defeated.

"Outnumbered?" Colin again nodded his head. Outnumbered, outgunned, and all alone on an abandoned fort in the outskirts of Unified Forces' territory; nobody had seen the invasion coming, and Stefan was frankly shocked the Supreme were even bothered to chase after him, one mere traitor, but here they were knocking at the door with mortars and artillery. Already the soldiers were banging at the door, trying to get in. There was no way out.

"What if we don't make it out of here?" Stefan broached, finally voicing the subject they both seemed reluctant to talk about.

"I don't know..."

"What if we... what if we die?" The words... Why were they familiar?

"Look... I..." Colin rubbed his face, but when he pulled his paw away, gone were the stripes of black and white, replaced with colour. A deep, caramel brown... it was the face of a man Stefan knew he was supposed to know, "Just... We're not gonna die, okay? We'll find a way out of this..."

Stefan didn't say anything.

He just sat there, looking across at Aydame, someone he was supposed to know, who looked about panicked, eyes already dead and glassy. Whilst his mind had given up, the body fought on to survive. Stefan tried to process what he was seeing. It was exactly like his dreams, his nightmares, where he'd seen this horse before. Some long time ago, he'd known this horse intimately, as intimately as he knew Colin now. But there was no other connection, no seeming way to put the two together. Colin was about as far removed from his little psychotic breakdowns as he could be. Stefan was just hallucinating, giving in to fevered dreams provoked by stress. This wasn't real... surely not...

"Do you have bad dreams?" He wheezed, blinking away the sight of Aydame to let Colin return to his vision.

"What?" Colin's face looked confused; annoyed he was being asked such a question at a time like this. But Stefan only repeated himself, firmer this time,

"Do you have bad dreams?! Dreams about places you think you've been? About people you seem to know?"

"Well..." The zebra hesitated, which was already enough for the dog to go on. Stefan began to hyperventilate as suddenly things were becoming clear in his head, remarkably clear for the first time in what felt like centuries of memories, "Sort of... But it's just about these weird places. Probably just old battles I've been in."

"A forest in a valley, a river, a beach, some forgotten farm and a frozen wasteland... those are the places, right?" Stefan listed them off, his mind reeling now as he comprehended what was going on, "I'm right, aren't I?"

"How did you..." Colin trailed off, anger blurring into confusion, "That's impossible..."

"What's your name?" Stefan yelled, stumbling to his knees as he put himself directly in front of his lover, "What's your full name?!"

"Captain Colin Adams... why?"

Stefan gasped, horror swelling in his chest and his mind shattered into a thousand pieces. It wasn't possible... Aydame... Adams... Adam... All the same man, somehow, against vast and improbable odds. How on Divinia could that ever happen? But then did that mean... Stevarn... Stefan... and Steven. Master Jon had said 'Steven' too...

"Colin... we've met before. Long ago." Stefan slumped back onto his haunches, knowing that only one fate could befall them know. They were in the middle, not yet at the journey's end. They were going to have to die, "And we've got to meet one more time. I don't know why or what happens, but don't worry, okay? This isn't the end... We can be together again..."

"Stefan? Sweetheart... what are you talking about?!" Colin seemed scared. Undoubtedly he should be, any man should be where he is facing death head on. He grabbed Stefan's arms, shaking him with a horrified, frightened expression on his face as the sound of explosions grew closer, a soft whistling cutting above all the rest, "Tell me!"

"I love you." Stefan leaned forward and kissed Colin, tenderly putting his lips to the zebra's and calming him. His heart, whilst fluttering in mortified jitters, quelled for just a moment whilst he focused on the single moment where everything was okay.

Before any more could be said, the bomb that had been destined to careen directly into the safe room finally made its destination. When it slammed against the brickwork, it tore through the weakened structure, but did not yet go off. When it collided with the solid floor however, the warhead in its tip finally detonated upon impact, sending out a violent fireball that consumed everything in its wake. It was a quick demise for them both, a swift end to their fate-plagued lives, as debris was chewed up in a massive inferno, burning their bodies to unrecognisable ash. Stefan had no idea what had happened. Neither of them did.

They died in fire for the second time.