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Legion of Pain

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Chatper VI - Mammoth Problems

The West California High School was very excited with Lars’ return from a ‘cold’. Everyone was complimenting the doberman on how good he looked despite being out for a couple of days. Few had noticed that Mary, Rhiannon or Ben had all been away and those that did merely attributed it to the fact that they did hang out together a lot and probably gave each other the cold inadvertently. With the next big game occurring the following day, there was an air of anticipation for the star quarterback to take the field once more. No offense to Keith, but Caleb was far more used to working with his boyfriend and it would be better to hit the first game since after the Christmas break with a bang.

After their multiple sessions the previous night, Caleb was feeling quite energetic with a sense of freedom that had uplifted his soul. The fury his dad unleashed upon him as well as the worry from his mother barely fazed him when he told him that he had gone out clubbing and had stayed over at Jacob’s place. The fact that he returned home smelling of sex - even though he had taken a shower - didn’t help his argument but his parents were too worried about their own problems. That afforded him the opportunity to shower – again – and head out to school. Even with just a few hours of sleep, he was feeling… ‘buzzed’ was probably the best term for it.

“Someone is feeling quite lively this morning.”

He turned away from the easel, beaming brightly at the familiar voice. “Mary!” he exclaimed.

The art room was normally noisy especially since it mostly consisted of the stereotypical artists stoned on paint fumes or the boisterous jocks who only took the class for easy grades. That meant his joyful greeting was lost in the noise. He wrapped one meaty arm around her shoulder and she gave him a hug back in return. Her cornflower blue eyes, now bright and clear as ever, turned towards the canvas.

“Working on your project for the year?”

“Yeah. Going to go for a triptych. The theme is ‘change’.” He waved his paw auspiciously through the air. “Gonna have two separate paintings with contrasting colour pallets and different moods but then a third painting that acts like a transition between the two. You’re supposed to be able to read the series left to right or right to left so that it shows how quickly things can change back and forth.”

“I can see how it’s forming in your head,” she said, arms folded and a smile on her face. “But don’t you think you’re aiming way too much like the Old Masters?”

The Old Masters were the general term given to artists before the arrival of furs that were considered ‘great’ during their era. This included the likes of Rembrandt, Michaelangelo, Jackson Pollock and Van Gogh. Though they could easily be separated into their own art movements, in the 31st Century, it was easier to call them all the ‘Old Masters’ to generalise any artist during that era.

“I guess I kind of am. What’s wrong with that?”

“All those great artists took years to master their craft and paint those masterpieces. You’ve barely got the year. Think you really can make three oil paintings like that?”

Caleb glanced at the canvas which had thus far only been covered in a layer of sky-blue acrylic paint as a base. “Uh… Maybe? What do you suggest?”

“I’m no artist,” she said with a shrug.

“You’re in this class!”

Their teacher, Mrs. Bryans, hadn’t really taken attendance yet but she was usually too busy drifting between her students to really take it anyway. That normally allowed the students to arrive whenever they wanted and some of the jocks even skipped it entirely to get some practice in the weights room especially if the class was at the start or end of the day.

“I’m here for the photography,” she said with a haughty smile. “You know we sophomores aren’t allowed to specialise in those classes.” One of her eyebrows lifted. “Those kinds of classes aren’t offered on the AP course, after all.”

It was painfully obvious where she was going with this. “Yeah, yeah. I managed to get the forms and criteria to switch classes from reception. I was going to go over it and see which ones I could actually get into before I started applying.”

“Have you even asked your dad or mom about it?” The question was purely rhetorical. She already knew the answer.

“Like you don’t know.”

Mary lifted her hand, dropping her voice. “I’ve decided to stop listening in on people unless it’s absolutely necessary.” Her gaze lowered, her lips turning downward slightly. “At Callista Heights, I was causing a lot of people pain because of our connection. I couldn’t control it. Everything passed through me as well so I felt everything twice over. Once from the sender and then again from the receiver.” She shook her head, brushing aside a stray, golden strand of hair. “What’s worse, when I was ‘listening’ to the people around us, trying to figure out what they were going to do, I felt just how… you know…”

“Horny,” she whispered mentally. Even her telepathic voice was filled with shame and hushed.

“It only made things worse for me,” she continued aloud. “So, as part of my training and to prevent myself from…” Mary let out a soft cough. “Going wild… I’ve been advised to reduce the amount of eavesdropping I do especially here at school.”

Whatever else it may be, West California Island High School was still a high school and that meant it was populated by horny teenagers. Mary’s self-control was well above everyone else’s, but she had always had a problem of not being able to shut-off her powers. Though her telepathy was a recent addition and didn’t suffer from that drawback, her powers as an empath still lacked a direct ‘off switch’. Ignoring the feelings of others was still a possibility but when being bombarded from all directions by unwanted boners, feverish crushes, lusty daydreams or forbidden affections, Mary likely had to hone her ability to erect mental barriers around herself to ensure she didn’t rampage across the entire school, transforming everyone.

“I guess that means I won’t have to keep reciting the Pledge of Allegiance backwards in Latin anymore,” Caleb said with a smirk.

“Don’t get too cocky, Halestorm,” she mocked, a confident edge returning to her smiling lips. “I’ll get the hang of this soon. After all, I’m basically a super now too, right?”

That was right. With her infection, she should now have the same baseline superpowers as Felix. Perhaps not as strong as Lars or Ben who were already supers to begin with but at the very least she was stronger, faster and maybe smarter than the average human and had some degree of supernatural regeneration. That left Caleb as the only true Outsider in Arsenal.

“I’m almost tempted to ask you to infect me so that I’d catch up,” he muttered, only half-joking.

“Considering what happened with you, Lars and that stud of an elephant last night?” Mary but her lower lip, fighting back her own urges. It took her a second to close her eyes and force back the lusty desires. “I would think that’s a bad idea. I don’t think Jacob would’ve been too pleased with the mess you three made and if you were all at the same level, I don’t think that building would’ve survived.”

Caleb couldn’t help but smile a little proudly at the sex marathon he, Lars and Felix had shared. With both of his partners possessing baseline superpowers, they could regenerate much faster than he could so were more than ready to go again with a few minutes of an orgasm. Since he was used to squeezing out a load at least three times a day and with lack of sexual relief in the past few months, he was more than ready to go multiple-rounds with the two.

“Five times,” he said, puffing out his chest proudly. “A new record.”

Mary flicked her hair and pulled up a seat. “Only men would make a record of that.” She pulled out her tablet and began taking notes. “I was actually thinking of interviewing some of the other victims and submitting it to the Island Eagle.”

The Island Eagle was the local news outlet for West California Island. Likes the LA Times on the mainland, the Eagle had a fairly large distribution but skipped the physical copies of newspapers and sent news directly to the tablets or mobile devices almost everyone had. It was fairly well-respect if left-leaning. Caleb remembered how his mom constantly discussed setting up interviews or sending articles to the Eagle to help with her campaign but never actually doing anything about it.

“That sounds like a good idea. Thinking about being a journalist?”

“No. Just thinking it’d be a good way to pass this class. There are other varieties of art than just painting, you know.”

He rolled his eyes and turned back towards his work, literally waiting for the paint to dry. “How’re things with your dad and Ashton, by the way?” he asked cautiously.

“Typical, really. Dad was worried. Ashton was a polite gentleman as ever. Though he admitted that as soon as he heard you and Lars went at it, he wanted to try it out. Sadly, I’ll have to purchase super-level contraception to avoid becoming the first ever Gen4 teen mom. Those aren’t cheap and come with a lot of regulations. Use of them when you’re not a super can lead to permanent infertility or even birth defects when you want to get pregnant.”

Caleb could just imagine the news around that pregnancy. Not only would Mary be a teenage mother but there would be the question of whether the baby would turn out to be human, tiger or elephant.

“I wonder if your kid would be able to transform…”

“One of the reasons the doctors wanted Rhia and I to be careful,” she answered with a shudder “They don’t know.” Lifting a hand, she said, “I will reaffirm this now and forever more, I do not want children. If my bloodline is anything to go by, having a kid is a terrible idea.”

“Really? Why?”

She gave him an exasperated look. “Because, whenever the Greeks have kids, those kids usually end up killing them or having sex with them. I am not doing that.”

Considering how Mary was the daughter of Athena the Goddess of Wisdom from the Greek Pantheon, this was a very real possibility. Just thinking about Mary’s various inbred children with the ability to transform into elephants put all of disturbing images in his head. Mary’s features scrunched up in insult and she gave him a swift kick to the side of his leg.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“For the freaky kid called ‘Charlie’ popping out of me.”

“I thought you stopped ‘eavesdropping’.”

“I said I would cut back.”

So he wasn’t fully safe from her probing. All the better. It would keep his mental defences sharp.

Lowering his voice, he asked, “How was it, by the way? I mean… I know what it was like for me. Kind of trapped in my own body but loving every moment. For you?”

“About the same,” Mary sighed heavily. “I will admit that whenever you went through that, I was a little disgusted. I mean, I love you Caleb, but seeing you become that…” She grimaced, casting her gaze down again. “Let’s just say I was really relieved when you changed back. But having experienced it myself… It is… It’s like being freed but… It’s almost like being tossed out into the middle of the ocean. The tide is pulling you out further to sea where you know you’ll die and you’re trying to swim back to shore but you have no idea where the shore is.”

That was exactly how he felt whenever he had been injected with an Original Serum and went out of control. Both times, he had been out of control and valiantly tried to fight to regain control. Every time it seemed to get easier except for the last when he thought he had fully managed to control himself when, in reality, Trojan was just controlling him. It was a good thing that he had avoided taking Tibia’s serum when it had been offered.

“Scary but felt good, huh?” he asked. “Kind of like how I felt last night.”

“I’m keeping myself away from that,” she said, holding up her hands. “New topic, please.”

He snickered and leaned towards his canvas. The paint was still wet. “Lars got some new moves from the experience. Did you?”

“Yes but it much more mundane than his.” She lowered her voice. “I can sense bones.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “What?”

“Just like I said. I can sense bones. Even through walls. It’s kind of like… X-Ray vision except I sort of feel them with my mind instead of see them.”

He turned towards her with a smile. “That’s actually pretty awesome, Mary.”

A faint grimace let her lips. “It’s a bit of a double-edged sword.” She lifted her hand above her head. “If I put all my effort into it, I can fully see a person’s skeleton up to about a mile away. I can see how they’re moving and what they’re doing but I can’t use any of my other powers and I get this really bad headache.” Then she lowered her hand significantly. “At it’s lowest, I can sort of tell where everyone is but it’s like vague blurs. Really not that useful. I still get the headache though.”

It was just like Lars’ new power. Their bodies weren’t used to these new abilities and there was some form of physical drawback to using them. Compared to how his persistent weapons could use their powers consistently and with no drawback apart from the fact that he would have to physically equip them, he had to wonder which one was better.

“Just don’t push yourself, okay?”

“I don’t think that’s the way to go about it,” she said. “I’ve got to push myself on this. It’s the only way I’m going to get stronger with it. Just like how you workout, I’ve got to keep training, find my limits and then push past it.”

Mary was never one to avoid a challenge and she was not one to take on tasks that were beyond her skills. If she wanted to practice with her newfound powers, then he was confident that she would be able to work with them and eventually excel.

“You going to do that with your other form too?” he teased.

Mary rolled her eyes at him. “We will have to see. It is a much more ungainly than I’m used to but might be useful if I needed more raw power than speed and precision. You should see how Ben is coping.”

“How is he coping?”

She gave him a pointed look.

“He’s ‘embracing’ his change,” she answered mentally.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked in return.

“It was what our trainers taught us. Find the commonality between us and our ‘inner beasts’ and use it to smoothly transition from one form to the other while also maintaining control. I’m not sure exactly what it is for Lars but I think it’s being sexually stimulated or maybe dominated… I’m not too sure. I had to bail out before it I got caught in his transformations. For me, it’s more about control. Both of us want control but I sort of picture it as both of us having a hand on the wheel and driving so that helps. For Ben… well… it’s his desire for more power.”

“That sounds ominous.”

“Indeed. The way he figures it, if he can control his news abilities, he’ll become more powerful and that’s something both he and his ‘inner beast’ can agree on.”

“Fun times. What about Bren and Madman? How’re they manifesting their ‘linchpin’?”

“You don’t need to worry about Bren. He’s the one with the most control out of us being an amalgamation of all the world’s superspies, both real and fictional. Problem is that because of his regeneration, if his consciousness jumps to the next clone, his body can easily recover and ends up going wild. It’s kind of weird.”

Caleb imagined Bred getting shot in the head before the body abruptly convulsing and transforming into another elephant that would be another problem for them to deal with.

“And Madman?”

“I’m honestly not sure. He’s gotten better at blocking me out and though he’s able to shift back, he’s been really down recently. From what I can gather, his linchpin is his feeling of… abandonment. He was discarded by Gnoll, joined us and now he’s basically been discarded by Tibia as well. I think he’s afraid we might abandon him too for being too weak.”

Caleb remembered Lars saying something similar and making the promise to go visit Madman at some point. He made a point to visit Madman this evening. Then he recalled that he was due to have his meeting with Hank at the very same time to discuss the vulpine’s appointment as his agent. His schedule suddenly in shambles, Caleb found himself thrown once more into the world of pressure and responsibilities that he had been freed from just a few hours ago.

An idea came to mind and he brought up his phone, firing a text to Hank.

“How’s Rhia doing?” he asked simultaneously and mentally.

“Unsurprisingly made whole for her desire to create chaos is mischief. Just the idea of the destruction she could cause as a rampaging half-wolf, half-elephant was enough to see her return to some semblance of sanity. I honestly don’t think there isn’t much difference between her ‘unleashed’ mentality and her current one. She’s able to manifest a pocket dimension now, though. Apparently it’s scary but I’ve never been inside.”

Caleb’s features brightened at Hank’s response and he fired another text message, this time to Jacob. He had hit the ‘send’ button before remembering that he hadn’t exactly left his best friend’s apartment in a sanitary state. Before he could recall the message, he got those ominous ellipses warning him that Jacob was already typing a reply.

“Sure,” came Legion’s reply. “I’ve had to burn the couch given what you three did with it but that gives me space to put in a dining room table so we can have more people over.”

The sarcasm and bitterness was scathing and Caleb just showed the message to Mary.

“I think you deserved that,” she snickered.

“I probably do. I will say though, it was worth it.”

With a giggle, she said, “First time with Lars, eh? Sounds like it was explosive.”

“You have no idea.”

“Too bad it wasn’t just with Lars.” She began poking around on her tablet again. “Oh well. Maybe next time you won’t need Felix there to guide him. Perhaps you can stuff your doggy dick in our star quarterback in private.”

A fire erupted from Caleb’s cheeks and he quickly wrapped his paw around her lips. “Shut up, Mary.”

How ironic that she was perfectly comfortable speaking such a topic aloud when their roles as heroes had to be spoken in softer tones or mentally. The look she gave him was enough to tell him that she was enjoying the irony as much as he was suffering from them.

******

In what was quickly becoming a tradition, Caleb immediately drove over to AEGIS central alongside a small number of guests. Of course, this was the first time he was inviting a member of the media to the little gathering but he had a suspicion Hank wouldn’t mind considering how he was going to meet the members of Arsenal without their disguises and stand in the company of Legion. He got a few questions from both Lars and Ben about including Hank. Being veterans of the world of supers, they both knew the risks of letting civilians know one’s secret identity. Loved ones could get hurt, that was someone else who knew your identity and so far and so forth. But Caleb trusted Hank and if he was going to set the vulpine as his agent, they needed to know each other very well. Besides, the way he figured, if Hank could handle him, maybe he could handle all of Arsenal and that was less stress on David.

They drove into AEGIS Central. The city blocks were bustling with traffic once more and he guessed that it wasn’t just from the residents anymore. He rode all the way up to Jacob’s apartment with Mary, Ashton, Ben and Lars just behind him with Mary taking her convertible and Lars his truck. Upon approaching the door, he was surprised when one of Tibia’s boneheads emerged almost immediately through the wooden door, in full elephant form, dressed in a black singlet and running shorts.

“Oh, it’s you,” rumbled the pachyderm. “If you’re looking for Reaper, he’s on the roof with Felix and some others.”

Hank seemed to have beaten them. Though it made him curious what the two were doing at the top of the building. With a shrug, he thanked the elephant, a little stunned that the man was running out in the open - practically naked - and free. Then he noticed a black-clad panther emerge from a nearby alleyway, jogging right beside the man. No doubt an AEGIS agent monitoring the former henchman.

“Interesting approach to incarceration,” Ben said, scratching his cheek absently. “If I were Reaper, I wouldn’t just let these guys run around like this.”

“That’s because Jake isn’t treating them like criminals,” Caleb answered, stepping through the door and holding it open for the others. “He’s rehabilitating them.”

“Henchmen really aren’t worth the time. They’re cannon fodder to help you get away or to do the stuff you’re can’t be bothered doing.”

“Not these guys. You should’ve seen how tough they were back in Madagascar.”

Though he had explained the experience over and over to his friends, there truly was no comparing to the actual fight. He still maintained that it was harder fighting the boneheads than Tibia as they were coordinated, numerous and had military-like training. There were no words to explain just how grateful he was for AEGIS’_s kinetic shielding technology and the rest of _Assault. With their impromptu team in mind, Caleb flicked out his phone to check on the status of the dashtag -WeAreAssault-. Still trending, talk shows and news outlets were on fire as they were anticipating Jacob’s next show on the following Wednesday. It didn’t help that a lot of people were posting pictures of him in his underwear when he had saved Caleb at Callista Heights Mall and started calling him the ‘Naked Super’ for the fact that he was one of the few supers who unveiled their identity to the world but the first one that flaunted normal convention such as not having an agent, insurance or even a super-secret base of operations.

Caleb wondered if any news outlets or even villains had the building bugged and if he should be worried about his identity. Then he stepped out into the rooftop of the building to the smell of barbecue and all his worries faded away.

All because Gwen was there.

Jacob was parked off to the side flipping burgers, sausages and even some steaks over a burner while Felix - in full elephant form - stood beside him. Still with one arm missing, Jacob needed the elephant’s help to manage the grill. Hank stood close by, a cigarette in his muzzle and watching as Gwen pinned Madman to the floor over and over again with surprising ease. The vulpine seemed quite relaxed despite being exposed to what appeared to be a conclave of superpowers.

“Hey guys!” he greeted, keeping one eye on the match between Gwen and Madman. The beating he had received from the fiery No One was still fresh in his mind.

Hank glanced over and flicked one ear in his direction. “Ah… Flare Blue?”

“Weapons Master, actually.” He held out his paw. “But in real life, Caleb Hale.” A puzzled look touched his features, a faint smile on his muzzle. “But how could you mistake me, the wolf, for Flare Blue, the doberman?”

Hank laughed nervously. “Oh… Uh… Well I remember that your costume had some sort of magical spell or optical jamming about it and thought that it’d go to the lengths of changing your species to add further obscurity.” Hank took his paw and shook it. “Still Hank Frankfurter, by the way. Once went under the pseudonym ‘Doctor Dial’ for a radio show in college.”

Lars padded over and offered his paw as well. “I’m Flare Blue. Lars McLeod. I hope you know we’re trusting you with our identities.”

“I know,” answered the skinny, vulpine with a lightly grey touch to his muzzle. “You can’t believe how much stress I’ve been under just thinking about this meeting.” He shook Lars’ paw and from the look on his face, Lars was squeezing a little hard. “Legion actually offered me a swanky apartment up here. Apparently everything within three city blocks is owned by his super-secret, paramilitary mercenary group, SHIEL -”

Jacob suddenly let out a loud, annoying buzzing noise. “It’s AEGIS. Allied Extreme Global Intelligence Service. Don’t want to get the copyright lawyers down on us.”

Hank’s ears folded back in embarrassment. “Right. Sorry.” Mary stepped forward, holding out her hand. “And no need for introductions. You must be Blade Babe.”

“Mary Brightwood,” she answered, giving him a light curtsy. “A pleasure to meet you again, Mr. Frankfurter.”

“It is a little odd having met you before with your costumes and now having to meet you again,” laughed the brown-furred fox. Then he turned to Ben, looking a little worried. “Now I’ll admit, I’m not entirely sure but you must be…?”

“Blood Wolf,” Ben answered, refusing to take Hank’s hand. “Member of the Alpha Pack. Benjamin Connors. Suffice to say that should you compromise my identity or those that I care about, whether it was coerced out of you or not, those stressful nights will seem like a stroll through a peaceful meadow in comparison.”

A mild threat and not at all that bone chilling but one that clearly had Hank a little nervous.

“Uh… right. Of course, sir.”

Jacob immediately broke the awkwardness before it could escalate further. “How’d you guys like your burgers or steaks?”

Ben’s eyes narrowed, never leaving Hank’s gaze. “Raw.”

There was a loud whump and a string of cursing, once again providing ample distraction from Ben’s barely concealed threats towards Hank. Madman was once again on his belly, facing them while Gwen stood a few feet away, arms folded and without a scratch on her.

“What the fuck is the point of all this!?” barked the hyena.

Gwen stormed forward. There was little femininity in her stride. Her heel pressed against the back of his head, pushing his muzzle into the concrete. “Education.”

“What am I supposed to fucking learn, you crazy bitch!?” Madman screamed. “I just came up here because Hale invited me and then you started smacking me around!”

Caleb winced. Having been on the receiving end of such a beating before, he knew how painful Gwen’s lessons could be. “Uh… Madman, you might want to listen to what Gwen is saying…”

“She hasn’t been talking! She’s just been beating me up!”

He glanced up to the No One of Life who merely shook her head.

“Yeah… I think it’s less about her not saying anything and you not listening.”

“All she’s been telling me is to look at my own body! She tells me to look at my chest before punching it! Tells me to look at my legs before nearly breaking my fucking shins! What the kind of lesson is that meant to be!?”

Caleb’s brow furrowed as he gave it some thought. “Uh… Well…”

“Don’t give him the answer, Caleb,” Gwen said gently. Her voice was almost motherly when directed at him. But when it was turned towards Madman, her voice was harsh like a raging storm. “He needs to figure it out himself.”

“What the hell am I supposed to figure out!?”

Gwen reached down, seizing the back of Madman’s head and yanking him off his feet. Despite being at least three times her size, Gwen was able to lift him into the air with ease. “That’s what I’m here to educate you on.” Then she hurled him across the rooftop, sending him slamming against the low walls at the edge of the roof.

“Careful with the architecture, Gwen,” Jacob warned, flipping a burger. “We may own this place but I’d rather not have to explain to contractors how there’s damage to the roof in the shape of a giant hyena.”

The raven-haired No One flicked a stray strand of hair of her tomboyish cut and strode all the way towards Madman. “How far do we own the property here?” she asked.

“From here to Treveay Street. So about two streets away.”

“Good.”

Caleb flinched and he felt Lars squeeze down on his paw as Gwen stormed over to Madman. The No One picked up the panicked hyena by the collar and then tossed him easily across the street onto the other building. She gave chase, easily leaping across the street and onto the rooftop where she had thrown Madman.

“Should we… Should we do something?” Hank asked.

“Do you really want to get in the way of that?” Ben countered.

Madman’s scream made them all squirm and turn as one towards the table that had been erected close to the grill. Felix was already setting up the table with hot dogs, steaks, different kinds of potatoes and now with the burgers Jacob were just finished with, flipping them with that bright blue spatula of his.

“You’re absolutely right,” answered the former reporter. “Let’s eat.”

Caleb tried very hard to ignore the two dots soaring through the air in the block around them or Madman’s desperate pleas for assistance as he was chased down by a No One. In the back of his mind, he registered Madman smashing through the top floor of an adjacent building before being shot right out by a blow from Gwen into an adjacent apartment complex. For a brief moment, he thought Madman was trying to defend himself with a coat hanger.

The burgers were cooked very well though.

“So am I going to be managing all of Arsenal now?” Hank asked, his tail not-so-subtly wagging.

“We’ll be starting out with me first,” Caleb said. “Mostly because my dad, Feral Steel, doesn’t know I’m kind of firing him yet.”

“Just like your dad doesn’t know you’re spending lunch with Legion every day,” Mary added. She leaned over to him with a perfectly innocent smile. “Just so you know, Caleb has a lot of family drama right now.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Feral Steel has been infected by the Alpha Pack and is in the process of turning into a member but to do so, he needs to ‘dominate’ one of his kin. The likely candidate is going to be his other son, Feral Fang. Caleb’s mother, Lillian Hale, is running for mayor against a decorated General of the United States military, General Vernon Washington whom Legion is fairly sure is behind the Genesians.”

“I thought I recalled the name ‘Hale’ before,” Hank exclaimed, his green eyes wide and bright. Caleb hadn’t seen this much excitement from him in a long time. “That’s a lot of stress.”

“Oh, I haven’t even scratched the surface yet,” Mary said, her grin widening to a mischievous one. “Caleb’s sister is getting married. Probably the only one that’s ‘normal’ amongst them. His other brother, twin of Feral Fang, is a super and a member of the West California Island Police Force. He’s Scowl Wolf. This allows us to segue to the next topic which happens to be that Feral Steel didn’t reveal to Scowl that he was a super, purposefully sabotaging any efforts to reveal his powers because he believes Scowl isn’t mature enough to bear that responsibility. This has built a lot of animosity between the two. Ah, and while Jacob is officially part of Arsenal, David still harbours suspicion of him and is a little jealous of him even to the point where he’s tried to steal information on Legion from the AEGIS archives.”

Caleb choked a little on his well-cooked burger. “I didn’t know that,” he said, muzzle muffled by food.

“Don’t speak with your mouth full, honey,” Mary said, lifting a finger and pressing it against his nose. “All this was made a little tenser when most of Arsenal was put out of commission because of the Tibia Outbreak that turned everyone but Caleb into an elephant, amplifying our powers but also making us highly unstable. Caleb teamed up with Jacob, the Ferals, Scowl Wolf, our information specialist and Alpha Drive of the Alpha Pack to form Assault and raided Tibia’s base in Madagascar. While they defeated Tibia there, the Gene Stealer got away and they captured a large number of Tibia’s henchmen which Jacob is now working with to help ‘rehabilitate’ them. Felix is a prime example of this.”

The big elephant waved at Hank, making the reporter flinch.

“Feral Steel doesn’t approve of this as he’s of the mindset that villains, henchmen or no, should be thrown in jail. He doesn’t even know that his son, Flare Blue and Felix had explosive sex last night in Jacob’s apartment which is why, I suspect, we’re out here in the open air instead of down there.”

Lars, who had been drinking some soda, immediately did a spit take, spraying cola all over Ben. Caleb choked on his burger, slamming a fist into his chest over and over again to get the half-eaten food out.

“Mary!” Caleb cried, spitting out a chunk of burger.

Off in the distance, Madman screamed, waving his arms in the air as he ran across from one building to another, Gwen right on his tail.

“If he’s going to be your - and eventually our - agent, he ought to know all this,” she answered haughtily. “Oh and before I forget to mention, another member of Arsenal is Rhiannon who couldn’t make it today. She’s the Hound of Destruction, one of the heralds of the Androgynous God of Death, Shin-Lazar, but she’s been made mortal to help assist us as the Gods are incapable of seeing the futures of those touched by the Gene Stealers.” She batted her eyes at him. “And I’m the child of Athena, Greek Goddess of War and Wisdom, but I haven’t seen my mother since I was a child.”

Hank blinked, seemingly in shock over all the information that had been dumped on him. It was uncertain if Mary approved of bringing Hank into the fold or not.

“Everyone,” Jacob said suddenly. “Please grab whatever you can off the table and lift it up over your heads.”

Confused at the request, Caleb grabbed the plate of hot dogs, buns and his own food. The others did the same. The table was mostly empty save for a few disposable drink cups.

SMASH!

Madman came hurtling through the air, crashing into the table and sliding across its surface. Soda and water were knocked to the ground as he came to a grinding halt, dazed and with tongue hanging out, spread eagled over the table.

“Wow…” Lars commented. “I thought you couldn’t see the future or anything.”

Jacob gave him a smile. “I can’t but I know Gwen. And knowing Gwen…” He nodded towards Felix who had set his plate on Madman’s butt. Reaper stood up from the table and took a few steps back. “… take that off, Felix. She’s not done yet.”

A sense of dread filled Caleb and he did exactly the same. He glanced to where Madman had come from.

Nothing…

Gwen came crashing down from above, slamming right into Madman’s chest and collapsing the entire table down beneath him.

“You can’t just let me have a nice lunch while you work, can you?” Jacob asked with a shake of his head. “And before you retaliate, you specifically told me not to intervene or give him the answer so this act of violence is little more than an act of vindictiveness. Or habit.”

Gwen glanced at him, her heel driving into the back of Madman’s neck, one hand on her hip. “I liked that couch.”

Both Lars and Caleb went rigid like they had both been struck by lightning bolts. They had both befouled Jacob’s couch. Would they be next?

Mary leaned over to Hank who was staring at the whole scene with wide-eyed amazement, his muzzle hanging open in shock. “Did we mention that both Jacob and Gwen are actually inter-dimensional entities that are technically more powerful than the very gods of this reality?” She pointed at Gwen. “She’s known as L4 the Liaison of Life. Governs life itself, as you might imagine.” Then she pointed towards Jacob. “He’s R3 the Writer of Reality. Pretty much rules over time and space is its entirety. They don’t intervene in realities unless asked and they came here to help out on the Hound of Destruction’s request but with severely restricted powers.”

Back on the table, Madman was openly weeping. “What am I supposed to learn!?”

“First tell me what your problem is!?” Gwen barked angrily.

“I don’t have a problem!”

Gwen rolled her eyes, clearly exasperated. She jumped off the hyena and then grabbed the back of his neck with one hand. Caleb reeled his head back, baring his fangs in a silent wince in preparation for what was to come. The purple-eyed No One mercilessly lifted Madman off the ground, swung him around and then slammed him back into the concrete. Ben was watching on with fascination while eating a hot dog.

“Not once have you fought back,” accused the No One. “Why? Why aren’t you fighting back?”

Madman rolled onto his belly, barely able to push himself back to his knees. “What the fuck am I supposed to fight back with!?”

Caleb realised what this was about. He leaned quietly towards Hank.

“Madman has been feeling pretty down recently because technically he’s a Gene Stealer Generation 1 - maybe a Generation 4 now with recent infection - but he doesn’t really have any ‘superpowers’. I heard his bones are a little harder to break now but that’s about it.”

There was a flick from Madman’s ears. “Is that what this is about?” he sneered at Gwen. “You want me to fight back with a power that I don’t have!?”

Gwen threw Caleb an annoyed stare and the young wolf went stiff as a log, realising that his doom was fast approaching. Her piercing stare returned to Madman but she didn’t respond verbally.

“What do you expect me to do!?” barked the hyena. “Everyone else that got infected some power added to their own. Me? I don’t even get anything visible! Maybe I’ll save myself some medical bills from not breaking any bones but that’s it! Sure I’m a little faster and stronger than before and maybe I can heal a little faster now but so what? Compared to how Lars can make fucking bone spikes from his paws and set them on fire, Mary can ‘sense bones’ and I don’t even know what Ben can do with his powers now… what I’ve got is just… just… shitty!”

Caleb stepped forward, pity rising from his chest. “Look, Madman -”

“I don’t need your pity!” shouted the hyena. “Ever since Trojan…” The towering hyena’s arms slouched forward and he slumped to the ground, pressing his forehead into the ground. “… I’ve realised just how far behind I am. What value do I provide the team?”

There was an overwhelming urge to say something - anything - to the poor dejected hyena but Caleb couldn’t find the words. What was Madman but someone to fill the space in the team? A heavy weapons specialist? But he could imagine Madman countering by saying that was based on the weapons given to him by AEGIS. Michael Sanchez was looking for some power that was uniquely his. Something visible and perhaps on par with everyone else’s.

“When was the last time you transformed back into a human?”

The question came from Jacob.

Everyone could feel the fiery stare Gwen was giving Reaper as the wolf absently munched on a burger.

“Don’t give me that look, Gwen,” countered Legion. “The food is getting cold.”

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Fine.” Turning her gaze back towards Madman, she stepped forward and crossed her arms expectantly. “Well? Answer the question?”

Madman shook his head. “I don’t know. Why does it matter?”

“Did it even occur to you that while everyone was infected with the elephant strain, the moment the orgasmed they turned back into their original forms? You reverted into your hyena form.”

The bolt of realisation struck everyone around them save for the No Ones. Even Madman lifted his head in realisation.

“You’re… you’re right…”

“There are many kinds of powers out there,” whispered Hank. “Some abilities are activated like Flare Blue’s ability to summon fire or Blood Wolf’s control over blood…”

“When I was younger, I found it difficult to control my own abilities,” Mary admitted. “It was constantly on and I don’t think I ever really learned how to switch it off. Just ignore some things that I wasn’t interested in…” Her eyes drifted towards Madman. “Maybe… your power isn’t activated. Maybe it’s been active all this time.”

“Like a passive ability!” Ben exclaimed, showing his geeky side. “Dude, your power is your hyena form!”

Madman regarded his enormous paws in awe. “I… Is it really?” His eyes looked up to Gwen for an answer.

The Liaison of Life sighed and nodded. “On the scale of abilities, it is also one of the most persistent. Despite the anti-super fields that were erected when you were restrained by AEGIS, you maintained your hyena form and didn’t revert you back into a human. That means that even if everyone here was exposed to the fields that would render them powerless, you would at least be as strong as you were previously. I theorise that even your reinforced bones would retain some of their properties even in that same scenario.”

Hank tapped his cheek with a finger. “Anti-super fields generally must be customised to restrict specific superpowers but since most supers share the same baseline superpowers, the fields are calibrated to suppress the most basic powers. But if Madman’s actual superpower is his form and to maintain his enhanced abilities, that would circumvent any general anti-super fields.”

Madman slowly and shakily got to his feet. “That’s what you were trying to point out to me, wasn’t it? A normal person would’ve have been able to survive being thrown around like that. All that shit you were telling me about telling you what my problem was… It was all to get me to realise I really do have a superpower…”

Gwen turned away from him with a huff, a hand resting on her hip. “Just remember that power is only as good as you use it. Your abilities add to your durability, strength and speed but obviously not to your intelligence. When you lost your mass to Trojan, you also grew weaker so it seems tied to your physical state. Your powers will likely maintain your physical abilities well above even the average super but it will be up to you on how you develop it.”

“Your elephantine form will probably add more variety too,” Jacob added with a bright grin. “Don’t forget about that.”

A thin, weak smile touched Madman’s lips. “Right. I’ll keep that in mind.” He pointed at the plate of foot Felix was holding. “You mind if I have some? I’m famished.”

“Go ahead. Felix, help me bring up another table from the common room.”

The two left while Madman crouched down on the concrete with the others, munching thoughtfully on his new revelation. It only took a few minutes before Jacob and Felix returned with a new table and they set up the plates once more. By then, Madman was feeling a little more energised and was speaking actively with everyone else. As he talked, Caleb glanced over to Hank who was happily chatting away with Mary.

“You’re going to be okay with all this craziness?” Caleb asked. “I mean, you’ve just had a sample of the shit we’re going through.”

Hank laughed softly. “Honestly? It’s far more exciting than my job at GUYS Magazine. I mean, writing homosexual articles geared towards men is great and the eye candy certainly is a benefit but this is exciting. This is where the real impact is. I know how important image is to the world especially for those out saving people. Without any sort of support, you won’t get insurance or the support of any governing body.” His features hardened. “And I just realised how important it is that General Vernon Washington not become mayor.”

A dark silence fell upon the gathering. Washington had fallen bizarrely silent recently in terms of attacks with the Genesians. Caleb suspected that was because the government knew about the Genesians and if it was seen that they were attacking American citizens, support for his project would rapidly drop. The mayoral bid and the motivations behind it were still a mystery but he knew for a fact that if Washington became mayor, it would spell doom for West California Island.

“So you think you’ll help out managing my mom’s campaign as well?”

Hank nodded firmly. “I never imagined myself being a super or a hero for that matter but I’m glad to be making a difference. Count me in.” He turned his gaze towards the rest of the group. “But my passion will always be in writing articles and I may do some freelance articles for GUYS every now and again.”

“I don’t see a harm in that,” Lars said with a smile. “Maybe you can set us up with some photo shoots again. It’d be great for our image and might get us more money to support our efforts.”

“Why doesn’t AEGIS just support us?” asked Ben, waggling his eyebrows at Jacob. “Pay our premiums and what not?”

“Why doesn’t the Alpha Pack?” countered Mary. “You know AEGIS is semi-secret, right? If that kind of money started coming out of nowhere, people will ask questions and there’ll be hell to pay if and when they find out. Same if we got funds from the Pack.”

Hank held up his paws. “I think I’ll keep my ears sblissfully ignorant of those details.” He turned to Caleb. “But something I wanted to ask about something you said before. Did Arsenal get infected?”

Caleb’s heart sank into his belly. “Yeah. Almost everyone here except me got turned. Why?”

“That’s… probably something we should tell someone. I mean, as far as the public is aware, supers are still sort of off limits for the Gene Stealers. If they’re targets now…”

“The Elemental Alliance is already in the know,” Jacob said. “As part of the agreement with them, we’re letting them handle that piece of knowledge as the official superhero league of the Island. I wouldn’t go publishing that knowledge unless you want them knocking at your door.”

“Isn’t that criminally irresponsible?” Hank protested. “If we don’t tell people, someone who is a super regardless of their level of power could very well fall prey to the Gene Stealers’ machinations!”

Caleb rested a paw on the vulpine’s shoulders. “Trust me on this one, bud. Chimera isn’t just going to hit people at random and transform them. Something tells me he wants people to go to him for these changes in general instead of just spreading the infection like an epidemic. If that was what he wanted, he would’ve done it by now.”

“It’s true,” Mary chimed in. “It’s something that’s always struck me as a little bizarre with the Gene Stealer’s activities. It would be so easy for them to just let loose and turn West California Island into another quarantine zone. With Dragon Knight’s mobility, they could hit any and all major metropolitan areas in the blink of an eye. We wouldn’t even get time to retaliate.”

Ben nodded in grim agreement. “With everyone developing powers on par with Gen 4s, they’d cause so much devastation and spread so fast that we wouldn’t even get time to contain them. Chimera is purposefully pulling back for some reason.”

“And that’s why we don’t want to make this news public,” said Jacob. “If we did, imagine the panic on the streets. Anyone and everyone would be suspect. Humans might end up fearing for their lives and ‘human identity’ since all Gene Stealers are some form of fur. Specific species of furs would be lynched or victimised just because they bore a resemblance to a Gene Stealer. Anyone with some form of power relating to transformation could killed just for being born the way they are.”

Hank grimaced, setting his burger down. “That’s a little extreme, don’t you think?”

“I’ll be the first to say that I like to believe in the good in people but when it’s the bad guys that don’t think it’d be a good idea setting off that powder keg, I don’t think we should just on the premise of aggravating them.”

The older, brown-red fur bobbed his head slightly. “I suppose you’ve got a point there. What will you do instead?”

“We’re already gathering information on the movements of the Legion of Pain. We at least already know their potential members.”

“We do?” Caleb asked, surprised.

“Yes. They’re the same people that escaped alongside Tibia. From what we gather from Tibia’s former henchmen, including Felix here…” He gently slapped Felix’s chest with the back of his paw. “… the Gene Stealers recruited an entire army of disenfranchised people like him and trained them over months and even years to endure the transformations that they would undertake. So that tells us that they were targeting these particular people for a long time. We just need to find out where they’re hiding and strike at them before they can cause more damage.”

“Easier said than done, I suspect,” Hank chuckled. “Any leads so far?”

Jacob shook his head grimly. “Unfortunately, no. It has only been a week since their disappearance and Dragon Knight can send them anywhere in the blink of an eye.” The black-furred wolf glanced off to the side and absently tapped a claw against the table. “I’m going to have to do something about that guy…”

Caleb turned towards Hank with a smile. “I guess you’re pretty much caught up. Any plans on how you’re going to manage my career as a super?”

Hank nodded. “A few, actually. But I’ll need some time. I’ll need time with your mom as well.” He glanced off to the side, regarding the city blocks around him. “I wonder if we could get your mom to actually endorse a wide-ranging renovation of this place. Could provide cover for AEGIS’s movements and may actually garner publicity for her as she’s actually doing something whereas Vernon Washington is just blasting his mantra over and over again on the airwaves.” Hank looked towards the skies. “I think we’ll need to get you out there as well, Weapons Master. Tibia’s attack is being classified as a Gene Stealer attack and people are questioning where Arsenal is.”

That was a very good point. Since they had pretended Arsenal hadn’t really been involved in Tibia’s strike on Callista Heights Mall save for one lone member, the absence of the team was likely felt very severely. It made matters worse that David had been the one to give the official statement so the public knew that Arsenal was involved. Public support wasn’t necessarily needed but as had been mentioned before, insurance agencies and other governing bodies were not very likely to look away at any mistakes if the team they were supporting wasn’t well-received.

“I don’t think we should rely on Jacob’s talk show to drum up support,” Hank said. “I think we should make sure that part remains as neutral as possible.” He looked coyly towards Felix. “Mr. Cameron, do you think you and your… uh… team would be willing to get into acting?”

Felix cocked an eyebrow at him. “What’re you talking about?”

A coy, mischievous smile touched Hank’s lips and in that moment, he looked like the stereotypical playful fox. “A little show. Just to keep the public appraised of the situation.”

******

Hank’s idea was rather ingenious and Jacob had to commend Caleb for finding someone who could manage the public image of Arsenal. One of the aspects that he had somewhat circumvented was that dependency on people’s opinions of him given that he was very much exposed. Since the members of Arsenal had to keep hidden, there was an innate sense of distrust between them and the general public. That trust had to be earned by results. Without results, approval would plummet. If approval got low enough, Arsenal may just get kicked out of West California Island or outright banned from ever saving anyone ever again.

“I wonder if there’s a premise for a videogame in that,” he mused to himself as he strode through the hallways of the Cornucopia. “Superhero team needs to earn funds, pay monthly insurance fees, earn money through endorsements while maintaining their image and fighting supervillains. If opinion drops too low or they don’t act on villain attacks, it’s game over.”

He shrugged absently to himself, putting aside the premise of a videogame in exchange for room filled to the brim with videogame memorabilia. Elliot had converted one of the main entry points to the starship’s supercomputer as his own personal den. There were clothes, empty food boxes and a variety of collectibles scattered all over the floor. To his credit, the orca had actually cleared out a sizable space for his power armour to the far right of the chamber. No one had really stopped him from taking it. After all they went through, the orca deserved it. Not to mention everyone had been a little too busy restraining countless boneheads to really take into account one missing suit.

“So what’s this about, Elliot?” he asked, padding over to where the orca was parked in front of the myriad of screens. “I’m due at the hospital in an hour or so.”

The rotund orca swivelled around in his seat, showing rather heavy bags underneath his eyes. Normally, they wouldn’t be visible underneath his black flesh but they were so pronounced, Jacob couldn’t help but notice them. “I still don’t see why you waste your time there, Roman. I know you’re some sort of benevolent interdimensional deity that embodies charity and all that bullshit but that’s just weak.”

“Not as weak as your insult,” Jacob responded, concern in his tone. “When was the last time you got some sleep?”

“I don’t know. When did we get back from Africa?”

“About two days ago.”

“The day before that, then.”

Jacob groaned in exasperation. “Do you want me to loan you my Grandfather Clock? He’s actually quite comfortable inside once you manage to squeeze yourself in…” Then his features soured. “…aaaaand I just realised the sexual innuendo. Forget I said anything.” He nodded towards the orca. “What was so urgent that you needed me up here and don’t have Rage or anyone else?”

Elliot’s features were grim. “It’s about Chimera.”

“Really?” he asked, genuine curiosity piqued. “What have you got?”

The orca turned around, gesturing for him to approach. Jacob stood some distance away from Elliot purely because the orca was starting to exude a rather powerful odour; a little like someone had swam through shellfish that had been sitting out in the blazing sun all day. On the screen in front of him were countless images of cells. Each image was labelled with the names of the many people that were infected by Tibia’s strain including the members of Arsenal and even the boneheads. It looked almost like a collage of dozens of large, circular blobs surrounded in a clear membrane all pressed against one another and cast in a purplish light.

“I was able to trigger the transformation in the cells in each of the infected,” Elliot announced though there was no pride in his voice. “I figured it might help us actually cure them if we figured out the exact criteria that would trigger their change.” He pointed a finger at Jacob. “I was actually inspired by what you did with Sturmspalter against that first batch of henchmen. You know. The ones you effectively made brain dead for a few hours.”

Jacob grimaced, arms folded. “Certainly not one of my more ‘heroic’ moments but it had to be done. I didn’t have the time or patience to permanently restrain them and I needed to figure out what they were planning.”

“I agree. It was the most logical conclusion at the time.” The portly orca adjusted his glasses and tapped a few keys on the vast console. “Everyone that is capable of transforming has two or more forms. In their basic form, they are almost indistinguishable from how they were born, at least genetically. If you hadn’t told me that they were infected by Gene Stealers, I wouldn’t have known what to look for. However, when they do change, they are completely and genetically different. Do you see where I’m going with this?”

Jacob tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Given that you’re examining the cells and managed to simulate the transformation, I assume that you’ve figured out that their changes are triggered through electrical signals given from the brain. It would make sense why heightened emotional states would trigger mutations in our friends and how those that were newly transformed in previous outbreaks were somewhat manic.”

The orca blinked at him in surprise. “Wow… I mean… Just wow.”

He glanced over to the supergenius. “What? Am I wrong?”

“No. You’re absolutely right. I’m just surprised, is all. It’s refreshing to talk to someone who can actually follow along for once!”

Jacob shrugged and regarded the screens again. “I won’t pretend to know absolutely everything but I’m just drawing conclusions based on what you’ve provided me.” He leaned forward, pressing his paws on the edges of the console. “So where do you go from here? Now that you’re able to trigger the transformation, what then?”

The orca waggled a finger at him and pressed a few more buttons. On screen, the cells in front of him began to shift and change dramatically. They began to reconfigure, moving of their own accord, reshaping, growing bigger. Their nuclei undulated and twisted, abruptly splitting to form a secondary cell. However, there were clear differences between the two cells. One was much larger than the other. At first glance, it seemed like meiosis in action. Until the bigger cell wrapped its membrane around the smaller and began to absorb its nucleus into itself.

“What do you think?” the orca asked, testing him.

“I think it’s not a clear transformation like how most mutagenic superpowers work. In those cases, the cells either expand or just change outright. But here, what we’re seeing is the cells dividing and then the dominant cell taking over the first. What happens when they revert?”

“The exact opposite.”

As a demonstration, Elliot pressed another button and he suspected some pre-calibrated electrical shock to simulate neurotransmitter messages was shot through the still-living cells. Again, the change occurred with the bigger nucleus ejecting a smaller twin and then the smaller of them consuming the bigger.

“Genetically, are they the same?”

“No,” Elliot answered with a shake of his head. “Entirely different genetic structures. Outwardly, there seems to be similarities but on the genetic level, it’s entirely different.”

Worry began rising in Jacob’s chest. “Have you tried calibrating anti-super fields to prevent these changes?”

“That was exactly what I tried to do,” said the orca. “Geez, it’s so much quicker with you around.” He tapped a few buttons and the cells became bathed in a greenish glow. There was another electrical discharge and then the cells began to divide again.

“The anti-super fields don’t work,” Jacob sighed. “Damn. I thought that’d be too easy.”

Elliot’s features were incredibly grim. “Maybe but there’s something else.”

“What?”

“Let’s go through a couple of iterations first.”

Jacob waited patiently as Elliot simulated the transformation of the cells back and forth from one form to the other. After about the sixth iteration, he was starting to see some… disturbances around the membrane of the cellular structure. At the seventh, the changes were visibly slowing down in pace where before, they had almost been instantaneous. Just one more switch - the eighth - and he saw one of the cells actually break down and crumble into a messy, purplish-green splotch.

“Oh no…” he gasped.

“Yeah…” Elliot muttered grimly. “Anti-super fields won’t be able to stop these cells from changing but one that’s powerful and widespread enough, calibrated right, could actually prevent the perfect transformation. Exposed to the field, and anyone changing back and forth from one form to the other could potentially be exposed to cellular damage as soon as the eighth transition.”

“Lars and the others were bathed in anti-super fields when they were contained.”

“Not nearly as powerful as would be needed and they were specifically designed to suppress their powers and not their baseline powers. You would need the perfect settings for the field or a really powerful one to do this.” Elliot lifted a finger. “But that reveals another aspect…”

Jacob straightened, dread rising from his chest. “A superpower is consciously maintaining their cellular integrity.”

The orca deflated. “Aw man… You stole my thunder.”

He ignored the comment as the implications of his discovery were terrifying. “Elliot… You can’t tell anyone else about this.”

“What?” asked the supergenius. “Why?”

“Because this is probably the same method that Trojan controlled Caleb. Our mutual lupine friend was in full control of his mind but not his body, his cells. That means there’s a Gene Stealer out there can fully control someone on a cellular level. Make them do whatever they wanted and is consciously maintaining their bodies. That’s a very tight leash around the necks of a lot of people. People who have fairly fragile psyches as is especially after recent events.”

Elliot’s eyes widened in terror. “Oh… Oh shit… And we’ve got Tibia’s henchmen living around you…”

“Exactly. If they found out that the Gene Stealers could pull the plug on them and they’ll start dying from the inside the moment they start transforming again, they could switch sides again or potentially attack West California Island from the inside. That’s at least sixty elephants at the very heart of the city. Each of them trained like an elite of the military.”

“Whose fault is that?” growled the orca.

“Nate’s…” Jacob sighed, running a paw down his face. He peeked over his fingers, regarding the screens intently. “See if you can isolate the superpower. Run tests on whether or not baseline superpowers can help repair the damage or at least mitigate it. See if the transformations are spaced out as well if that’ll help stabilise them. I need to know all scenarios and possibilities. What will and will not cause them to degrade.”

Elliot snorted and cracked his knuckles loudly. “Give me something harder next time.”

Jacob patted the orca’s shoulder. “I’m counting on you. Keep this under wraps. If Nate, Gwen or Rhia asks, you can tell them but no one else. Got that?”

The portly supergenius nodded while giving him a mocking salute.

“Yessir.”

******

Football had always been an outlet. Even when Lars McLeod was living under his parents and being groomed to be the ‘next big thing’ for the Elemental Alliance, football had been the one thing that he could truly call his own. The Alliance’s leash around his neck had been so rigid that he had found that almost everything about his life had to be carefully controlled. Understandable in many ways since as a super and the offspring of two existing supers, he was genetically predestined to be of ‘pure blood’ and stronger than even the average super. He remembered all those lessons where he had to make gripping a pencil without snapping it in half second nature. Now that he was infused with not only Tibia’s strain but also Ursa’s, he found that his growth had jumped up exponentially as well. His baseline powers were getting to the point where a hard tackle would be enough to send a fully-grown fur twice his size flying back several feet. Nothing truly spectacular compared to career supers or supers whose powers were specifically built for enhanced strength but enough to notice. AEGIS had cleared him to play in the game mostly because as quarterback, he mostly did throws and got tackled instead of tackling someone else. That would be easier to hide than if he were to play an offensive lineman or defense.

It was with great relief that Friday finally arrived and they were heading to an away game against South Weisenheimer Grammar. Given that he had his own car, Lars drove his big, blue truck straight from school towards the campus all the way on the southern side of the Island. Someone on the island council or maybe even someone from California’s government body finally decided it was time to start reeling in the snow so the weather modulators had starter to wind down. Though there was still snow on the roads and temperatures were still freezing, it wasn’t a constant blizzard compared to a few weeks ago. Eventually, things would start warming up and soon it would be February and that meant Valentine’s Day.

Lars was looking forward to that. He was already planning something romantic with Caleb. Given how much fun they had when he had changed into an elephant, he wondered how his boyfriend would react to him to being a bear. One that was all lubed up with the oil generated from his ursine shape. The weather would just be cool enough that it would be appropriate to cuddle up to a big, furry bear. Maybe he could ask AEGIS to set him up with a private getaway somewhere. Away from all the other rambunctious elephants and the Gene Stealers for a while. Their trip to New York inspired him to do something similarly as romantic as watching the fireworks atop the Statue of Liberty.

His mind was derailed for a moment as the bus carrying the rest of the team veered away, carried by normal afternoon traffic. He was forced to stop at a red light for over two minutes as West California Island continued to thrive in the late hours of Friday. Thankfully, the game wasn’t until six so he still had time before it was time to don his armour and start throwing spirals at Caleb. His blood was already pumping with excitement and he could hear the roar of the crowd. Football was an outlet, his outlet, and the only source of normalcy he had in this tumultuous world.

A buzz came over the radio, the evening talk show hosts interrupted by an emergency announcement.

“This just in,” came the grave speaker, “an estimated thirty people have been captured in an office building on South Restreach Street. Officers on site do not suspect super activity at this stage but are still assessing the situation. Theories, thus far, fear that this may be the act of a lone, disgruntled gunman.”

“South Restreach Street,” he murmured. Checking the clock, he shrugged and nodded. “I’ve got time.”

A little voice in his head told him that he had people that were waiting for him but the hero in him demanded that he go off and do what he could. Caleb would never shy away from an opportunity to rescue them and neither should he. Inspired by his boyfriend, he took a sharp right at the next light and kept his ears perked as the news kept coming in.

“Local police have already attempted to commence negotiations with the hostiles but have not received any response from within the building. The building, owned by multiple businesses, has been evacuated save for everyone on the thirty-fifth floor where the hostages are currently kept.”

Naturally, traffic approaching the site became rather congested. Though police officers benefited from the use of hovercars, the public were restricted to using traditional vehicles with wheels and when the roads around the site of the attack were cordoned off, traffic tended to come to a standstill. He recalled that this was the reason Felix became so disgruntled. His paws tightened around his steering wheel as he was forced to slam on the brakes behind a family sedan. Since he didn’t have a ‘job’ so to speak, he didn’t have to worry about getting fired or not making rent as he still had a rather sizable trust fund left over from his parents when he became emancipated from them. With AEGIS taking over the city block and plans for him to move into the area, he realised he was very fortunate. There were others out there, like Felix, who were not so lucky.

Something had to be done.

“The sooner I rescue those people, the sooner they can get back to their jobs and no one has to suffer,” he told himself.

With that in mind, the moment the traffic began to move again, he veered off into a side street, an alleyway that was clearly a dead end. He emerged from the alley and began running towards the direction of the incident, making it seem like he was trying to head over to an appointment in the same direction on foot. A few blocks later, he was confident no one who had seen him drive his truck into an alleyway would see him duck into a different alley. In the relative darkness and amongst the snow, he reached into his pocket and retrieved the badge he had received from AEGIS. Using similar technology to the Elemental Alliance, the badge glowed green indicating that no one was spying upon him. He slapped the badge onto his shoulder and the moment it hit is clothes, a bright, blue fire engulfed his letterman jacket, thick jeans and shoes. The flashy display replaced his attire with his Flare Blue costume in less than a second.

Now ready for battle, he leapt into the air, jets of focused blue flame launching from his feet and paws to help propel him through the air. It was only a short flight over to South Restreach Street and it was very easy to find. It was the only building down the street that was surrounded by police. News helicopters were already in the air and the moment they saw him, their cameras turned to him. In the modern age, having reflective glass on buildings was pretty standard so it was a little difficult to tell where people were. Though it was very tempting to just charge in, smash through the windows and announce his arrival, it was also a very easy way to hurt someone or worse, get sued.

Thanks to the reports he had overheard, the hostages were behind held on the thirty-fifth floor and everyone else had been evacuated.

So he aimed for the thirty-sixth.

He charged straight for the windows, smashing through in a blaze of fire. As expected, his surroundings were completely devoid of life save perhaps for the potted plants. The noise of his entrance would not have gone unnoticed so he quickly curbed his flames to avoid triggering the sprinkler system and charged towards the stairs. Just one floor down and he immediately barged into the thirty-fifth floor…

… and right into a sex dungeon.

Not a literal one, of course, but the cubicles, desks and office walls had all be torn down or set aside to make room for dozens of people dressed in office clothing being strapped to leather-themed devices that were clearly sexually themed. One guy was pinned to the ground on all fours wearing a puppy-mask. A woman was suspended in the air by her wrists and ankles, exposing her genitals. Two guys were caught in some sort of mechanized sixty-nine machine where they were positioned with their mouths leveled at one another’s dicks vertically and slowly spinning to keep one or the other from passing out from the blood rushing to their heads.

“What the fuck…?” he exclaimed.

Lars pushed aside his disgust and immediately went into rescue mode. He charged at the civilians, keeping an eye out for the source of the villainy. It surprised him that no leather-clad muscle monster straight out of the latest Mad Max remake came springing out of the shadows to try and subdue him. Then again, a smart villain would have already made his retreat after the police arrived. Somewhat comforted, Lars began undoing the bonds of the people around him.

“It’s okay,” he assured, “you’re safe now.”

He pulled the ball gag from a man’s lips and the guy collapsed straight into his arms, panting for breath.

“Thank you…” gasped the poor soul. “Thank you so much.”

“It’s what I’m here for,” Lars said, puffing out his chest valiantly. “Help me get the others out of the… erm…” His mind went blank. “… their restraints.”

The man nodded and went to rescuing the others. Lars moved towards one of the woman who was looking at him with a look of relief, her eyes wide and tears streaming down her face. She was gagged and bound in a foetal position while suspended in a large, spiked cage.

“Who did this…?” he whispered.

The man behind him heard his words and answered.

“The Gimp.”

Lars’ heart plummeted.

The Gimp. That D-List villain who had apparently escaped alongside Tibia. Tibia… the Gene Stealer who had escaped them and caused so much trauma for Arsenal.

Lars slowly turned, finding the man he had rescued slowly lifting a gun towards his face. Several of the other men around the office began undoing their own restraints; eighteen of them to be exact.

It was a trap.

Ding!

The elevator doors sprang open. Lars had purposefully avoided taking the lift because it’s movements would be clearly advertised. Any villain half their salt would be guarding the lifts and the moment those doors sprang open, they would start shooting. If he had just pressed the ‘call’ button, then maybe he could’ve caught the huge, lumbering man dressed in revealing leather gear and his two remaining henchmen.

The Gimp.

“Oh fuck me…” he mumbled.

******

The West California High School Raptors were up against South Weisenheimer Grammar’s Muskrats. It was a highly anticipated game. The first game for the Raptors of the new year and hopefully the first sign of normalcy in a while. But with mere minutes to kick-off, Caleb was pacing impatiently in his body armour as his partner on and off the field was missing.

“Where the fuck is he?” he growled to himself.

Like many professionals in the game, the Raptors had their own pre-game rituals. Gerard liked to beat his own chest shirtless in the showers. Finn, Caleb’s partner as a wide-receiver, was in the corner with a Christian cross in his paws and murmuring quiet prayers. Keith, the backup quarterback - facing the increasingly likely possibility that he’d have to start - was giving himself a pep talk using the locker room mirrors. Normally, Caleb and Lars would be yelling obscenities at one another, making jokes about ‘catching’ one another’s balls and ‘going long’.

But Lars was missing.

“Damnit!” he snarled, smashing a fist into the nearby locker. The impact hurt and he pulled back from the thick, metal. There wasn’t a dent and now his paw hurt.

“He’s probably stuck in traffic,” Gerard rumbled, emerging from the showers, still shirtless. “I heard there was some sort of police operation on the way here. Probably got caught up in that.”

“Maybe.”

Doubt still swirled around in Caleb’s mind. If Lars was indeed stuck, he would have called. But he didn’t. Not a peep from him and even the coaches, including David, were looking around worried. Not for the game. They were all fairly sure that even without their star quarterback, their Raptors could defeat the Muskrats.

Mercifully, a soft ringing came from within the very same locker that he had hit. Everyone else was a little too busy with their own rituals to pay any mind save for Gerard who hovered over Caleb’s shoulder while the young wolf reached into the locker and yanked out his phone. It was from Lars. Probably calling to tell him that he was indeed stuck in traffic.

With a sigh of relief, Caleb pulled the phone to his ear and hit the ‘answer’ button.

“Lars, where the fuck are you man?”

“McLeod is a little tied up right now, Hale.”

His heart plummeted all the way down to his feet, smashing through the contents of his stomach and draining it completely to leave it with a terrified, empty feeling.

“Who is this?” he demanded, turning away from a concerned Gerard and immediately heading towards his dad. David saw his concerned look and gestured for him to follow towards a quiet part of the locker room.

“I don’t have a name. I know only pain. I am the Gimp.”

The Gimp. One of those ‘supervillains’ who had escaped alongside Tibia. Supposedly some nut case that was dressed all up in BDSM gear and had the tendency to tie up his targets and start torturing them. The unfortunate thing was, the Gimp’s power was to redirect and absorb all pain and damage into himself. So even if it looked like he was whipping his captives, they weren’t feeling anything and instead, the Gimp was. It was some sick pleasure on his part. No one really considered him a threat because of that, calling him another D-list villain even though the psychological damage of being tied up and attacked - albeit to no effect - was still very real.

“What have you done with Lars?” Caleb snarled, aware that some of his teammates were now curious why he and their assistant coach were huddled in a corner.

“Like I said. I’ve tied him up. At South Restreach Street. You want him. Come and get him.”

“You sick fuck!” Caleb growled. “If you touch a single fur on his head…”

The Gimp laughed on the other side of the phone. “That’s it. I feel your pain.” A sound like slurping followed. Did the Gimp lick his lips. “It’s delicious. Pain is the universal language. All things that matter feel pain. What are you saying with your pain? Can you hear his pain?”

There was a sudden whimper from the other side of the phone. Caleb’s chest tightened in terror.

“I will educate you on the true meaning of pain, Caleb Hale.”

Click.

The line went dead.

Caleb locked eyes with his dad and began to move. David suddenly slammed a paw against the wall, preventing him from moving.

“Leave this to the authorities, Caleb,” warned David.

“What? Dad - ”

“Caleb,” said his father fiercely, “you’re just a high school student that’s got a football game to play. I’m just your coach. We can’t do anything against a villain like the Gimp.”

It took him a second to realise exactly what his father was saying. There were people watching him; his own teammates, classmates. If he suddenly went rushing off, donning his Weapons Master outfit and saved Lars, people would start making connections. The risk of exposing himself, of putting the rest of his family at risk, was far too high.

“I just can’t do nothing,” he pleaded, playing the part of the distraught boyfriend.

“I’ll call the police,” David answered, nodding very slightly to show that he understood what Caleb was really saying. “Maybe see if I can get a line to the Elemental Alliance. Don’t worry. Just focus on the game.”

Gerard suddenly stepped up. “What now, coach?” he asked. “Our quarterback ain’t comin’.”

“That’s why we’ve got reserves,” David answered confidently. “Keith, you’re up.”

Caleb shoved his phone back into his locker, feeling utterly helpless while David began organizing their plays with the rest of the coaches and the team. But his dad was right in holding him back. He had to believe that someone, somewhere was going to save Lars somehow. The faintest brush of a gentle hand touched his mind, like the dainty touch of a gossamer sheet against his brain.

Mary.

“Don’t worry. I heard everything,” she said. “Ben, Rhia and I are already on our way. Ben is already calling Bren and Madman. We’ll get Lars to safety.”

“Are you sure?” he asked worriedly.

“Yes. Besides, it’ll be a good opportunity for us to try out our new powers.”

Caleb shut his eyes tightly and prayed.

“Have faith in us, Caleb,” reassured Mary.

He pursed his lips, fists tightened and shaking. “Okay… I’m trusting you guys. Got get him.”

The team let out a loud holler, announcing that it was time to head off into the game. Caleb shoved on his helmet and charged right out there with everyone else; head in game.

Head in game… but heart still on the war.

*******

News was already spreading quickly.

Flare Blue had jumped in to apprehend some villain that had held several people in an office building hostage but had yet to emerge after an hour. There were no bursts of blue flame, not earth-shattering explosions and no screams of terror. That left those watching from the streets watching with baited breath and with questions on their lips. Having come from the Elemental Alliance, Flare Blue was known to be quite grandiose with his activities. The silence left even the news crews quiet and shaking in fear. With the recent fears of Tibia’s attack and the revelation that Arsenal had been infected still raw in people’s minds, there was a very real fear of some fiery elephant or other fur bursting from the office building and infecting people. Police crews were already trying to push away civilians.

When Mary arrived, there was still a large civilian presence. It was to be expected. Superheroes were basically celebrities and seeing one in action was akin to snapping a candid photo with a Hollywood movie star. When she arrived alongside Ben, Bren and Madman, the crowd immediately turned their attention from the glass tower to them. News crews were whipped into a frenzy again as they turned towards them, shoving microphones and cameras into their faces.

“Can you tell us what’s happening in there, Blood Wolf?”

“Is there a threat of another outbreak, Madman?”

“Blade Babe, what are you going to do about Flare Blue’s situation?”

No one demanded anything of Bren as the super spy was notorious for offering bland explanations, having had the most media training out of them all. Amongst the crowd, however, were two, tall, statuesque dobermans who immediately brought the reporters to a silence as they approached.

“They are not going to do anything.” Siren stormed forward, eyes narrowed and scanning the members of Arsenal. There was a twinge of relief and a little bit of frustration in her eyes. “I see that neither Weapons Master nor Legion are amongst you.”

Though she swore to avoid using her mind reading powers unless it was absolutely necessary, the female doberman’s tone left her a little curious. Lars’ mother respected Weapons Master on some level if only due to his powers. It was obvious that if Caleb just had baseline superpowers and had been discovered early, he would be one of the top students in the Elemental Alliance on reference alone as Feral Steel’s son. Perhaps, Siren thought, if Caleb hadn’t been poached by the FBI, he could still have made it into the Alliance as a sidekick and then the internal struggles within the Alliance would not be tearing the organization apart. Bitterness over that ‘what-if’ scenario burned brightly even though she tried to restraint it and focus on the current situation. There was also a hint of something a little more… personal but Mary didn’t want to pry any further as Siren was expecting an answer.

“That’s our teammate and friend in there,” Mary said firmly. “By rights, we have to rescue him.”

“No law enforced dibs on this scenario,” answered the blue-clad doberman hotly. “We were here first and we have all seen what happened the last time Arsenal was deployed. You’re already down one member and clearly your trump card is missing.”

She was referring to Jacob whom she feared. Even without reading her mind, Mary knew that the Alliance’s greatest fear was the enigmatic, dimension-hopping wolf. No doubt they had learned a lot from Nightingale who seemed to know Jacob’s true identity. Even if they didn’t believe his ability to jump from one universe to the other, they had evidence of his power in this reality. AEGIS alone was enough to give them pause and the display of power and control he had shown at Callista Heights Mall was enough to even rival Shockstorm’s abilities.

“We don’t always need to rely on Legion,” Bren said firmly. “But clearly someone we both care about is being held captive. So I suggest we cooperate and -”

“Absolutely not!” Siren screamed, giving everyone around them - civilians included - pause. “Arsenal has shown its incompetence especially in the face of a threat like Tibia. It’s time for the professionals to handle this.”

“Yer honestly not sounding so ‘professional’ to me,” Madman snarled.

The fiery doberman spun towards the gargantuan hyena, lifting a fist in his direction. “What was that!?”

“You heard me!” Madman roared. “I’m sick of your fucking posturing! This ain’t a competition, bitch! People’s lives are at stake! You shouldn’t be arguing over who gets to save whom and when just because it’s good for ratings or your sponsors!”

“How dare you!?”

“I don’t hear ya denying it.”

That brought a moment of silence from Siren giving Shockstorm a moment to step forward and speak up. Everyone in Arsenal watched Lars’ father cautiously.

“One of the reasons we haven’t struck yet is because our powers are designed to be wide-spread and devastating,” explained the doberman. “We don’t know what the situation is inside the building and we’re afraid that if we unleash our powers, we’re going to hurt someone unnecessarily.” He gestured towards his wife. “Imagine a flood of water erupting from the thirty-fifth floor or lightning erupting from that high up. People won’t have very many places to run in that situation.” His soft, brown eyes turned towards them. “But your team is especially skilled in infiltration and stealth. After all, you went around the Alliance’s back unnoticed for months.”

That sounded like a jab at them but it felt more like a way to appease Siren’s hot temper.

“So why don’t we do this? Your team goes in first and we will support from the outside. Your first priority should be to open a window. Siren and I need to see what’s happening inside before we can do any precision strikes. Whoever is in there clearly has enough power to subdue our son.” He lifted a finger at them. “Don’t think you can do this all yourself. Even Legion has a team.”

The use of Jacob as an example was clearly designed to placate Arsenal and Mary had to admit that it was a clever ploy and one that was very effective. She was forced to agree and nodded firmly, arms crossed. “Sounds like a plan.” She glanced over her shoulder at the others. “Any opposed.”

She opened a mental link to the rest of the team including Rhiannon who was quietly hiding atop one of the nearby buildings.

“I still don’t like it,” admitted the Hound of Destruction. “This smacks of Gene Stealer activity but with these damn windows, I can’t see a thing.”

“You can’t tell if something will be destroyed?” asked Bren, referring to Rhiannon’s ability to sense destruction even though she had given up her portfolio as the Hound of Destruction temporarily.

“That’s what has me bothered. There has been nothing destroyed. I don’t see any intention for destruction either. It seems… like nothing is happening.”

“Then Shockstorm’s plan might be the best way to go,” Ben suggested. “We need to go in quietly. Well…” He glanced around him. “… at least as quietly as we can manage given the publicity.”

Mary gave them all a mental nod. “It’s settled,” she said aloud. “We’ll go with your plan.”

“No theatrics or heroics,” said Shockstorm firmly but more like a cautious father trying to warn his daughter before she went off to prom. “Just get us visibility inside and then let us handle the rest.”

“Very well.”

The two established supers stepped aside, forming a sort of template for the rest of the crowd to part down to allow Arsenal to storm the building. Mary wondered momentarily if it was such a good idea to be discussing their plans out in the open with the media right there but the heat of the moment had swept them away. She pushed those thoughts aside for the moment. Their priority was saving Lars.

As they made their way up to the front door of the building, she stopped and turned to her team. Once again, a mental link was opened but this time, she only kept it open with Rhiannon. The guilt of having crippled her team with her own pains and pleasures of transformation still weight down on her heart. But she had no qualms of reducing the Hound of Destruction into a quivering mess should she get captured. With the link established once more, she began relaying Rhiannon’s tactical advice.

“The moment we step through these doors, when no one else can see, Bren and I will head up the stairs like planned. Madman, Ben, you go out the back out of the view of the reporters and get into the building from above.”

Madman gave her a puzzled look. “Why from above and why the two of us?”

“You’re the only two that can get up there quickly. Besides, everyone has phones these days and I’m pretty sure after our discussion out in public with the local supers, whoever is in there…” She hiked a thumb in the direction of the building. “… will know what we’re up to. So we attack from two fronts.”

Ben cracked his massive, lupine knuckles ominously. “I’ve always wanted to come from above.”

Ignoring the sexual innuendo, Mary rolled her eyes and turned back towards the building. “Come on. Let’s go save Flare Blue.”

She led the team straight into the building and the moment she was out of sight from the cameras and reporters, she switched on her ‘Bone Sense’. The headache came almost instantaneously and she barely got enough time to glance upwards, scanning the floors above for anyone. The world became muted like a gray film had dropped in over her eyes and sucked out all the color. Red, shining bones shone through the grey, tiny as they were positioned thirty-five floors above them. They were placed in strange positions and judging by the positioning of a few of them, they were restrained in such a way that almost looked like they were hanging from the ceiling like meat in a butcher’s shop. Fear gripped her heart, fearing that she would barge into the floor and find Lars butchered like a cow hanging on a meat hook. Explaining that to Caleb would be heartbreaking.

“I don’t see anyone else between us and the thirty-fifth floor,” she announced. “I can’t see anyone above them either.”

“Then let’s move,” Ben announced.

The two biggest of the team bolted towards the back of the building, rushing for the nearby fire exit. Even with the emergency lights flashing, there was no alarm that blared the moment the door was pushed open. Same as with the elevators; they were fully functioning. Mary called the lift and stepped inside, pressing the button for the thirty-fifth floor.

“Most buildings like this don’t have a way to securely open any windows,” Bren announced, pressing the ‘close door’ button. “But there should be a way to turn off the reflection screen. They’re probably located next to wherever the A/C is controlled.” As he spoke, he produced a strange, circular device from the pocket of his clean and pressed black suit. He set it down on the lift and it began to unfurl into what looked like a miniature antenna with an alien flare to it.

“What’s that?” Mary asked.

“Respawn Device,” answered the super spy. “Apparently, AEGIS based this on the technology that allows me to jump from clone to clone. Only instead of me having to waste time jumping into another body halfway across the island, get dressed and then make my way here through traffic, this thing will teleport a body right here for me ready for use. Only thing is that it needs about ten minutes to recharge between uses.”

“That’s actually very handy,” she answered, surprised. “What happens if this thing is destroyed?”

“My consciousness remains in some backup that Elliot has set up.” The tiger reached over his shoulder and tapped the base of his neck. “There’s a quantum entanglement link constantly beaming my thoughts and memories to his mainframe implanted somewhere here. So long as the Cornucopia and his database remains online or so long as the data doesn’t get corrupted, I’ll keep on living. Maybe just not without a body.”

“I’m honestly surprised Arcturus hasn’t come beating down your door for flirting with the concept of death.”

Bren armed his stasis rifle, a soft whirring noise rising from the device. “I’m surprised Rhiannon hasn’t taken to using me as a guinea pig to quench her sadism.”

The elevator dinged and Bren immediately burst out with practiced and swift movements, first scanning the left and then the right while staring down the barrel of his weapon. Mary had her fists ready as he charged in. Her heart immediately seized up at the sight of the BDSM dungeon before her. The poor souls that were hung up, looking pained, gagged and tortured gave her a moment to pause. Maybe some other day she would have enjoyed experimenting with such tools but seeing these innocent people strung up like that just sickened her.

“I feel like I just stepped off into a Fifty Shades of Grey-themed house of horror,” she admitted.

“There!” Bren announced, pointing to one of the pillars at the centre of chamber.

Lars was strung up by his wrists against the pillar, a ball gag pressed against his muzzle. Bruises and cuts appeared all over his body, already healing but still relatively fresh. Mary immediately rushed forward while Bren covered her rear.

“Flare Blue!” she announced. Lars could barely open one eye, the other was already swelling shut. “Hang in there. I’m going to get you out.”

Lars mumbled something and she immediately opened a mental link to him and the rest of the team.

“It’s a trap!”

Just as she had expected but what she did not expect was where and how the trap was sprung. Suddenly, all the windows into the building shattered, sending glass everywhere. The bound civilians whimpered, helpless to defend themselves as big, burly men dressed in leather-themed attires came charging in from what appeared to be ropes stuck from upper floors.

“They’re coming from the adjacent building!” Rhiannon cried. “They must’ve left through another route, make their way across the street and then waiting in the adjacent building!” Alarm suddenly erupted from Rhiannon’s link_. “Oh shit! They’re here! How!?”_

Mary flicked her wrists, sharp blades springing from her wrists. With one, deft movement, she slashed at Lars’ restraints, sending the doberman toppling to the floor. The leather-clad warriors began firing at them, Mary noting how they were all normal furs and humans; no theme as the transformed men under Tibia had been. She immediately dragged Lars behind the pillar. She noted how the bullets flying past her let out a glass-shattering sound upon impact and a faint, clear, yellowish liquid oozed out of the impact site. Each of the men also had the ‘Beta’ symbol drawn across their chest armour in bright, red paint.

“They’re trying to knock us out again!” Bren announced, firing back from his hiding spot.

That could only mean one thing.

Combined with the organisation of these men, their capture of Lars, the bullets and their uniform, it was clear that this was a trap laid out for Arsenal. Mary could only guess Tibia was back to capture them again and maybe subject them to more tests or luring out Weapons Master.

She was not going to let them get Caleb nor was she going to let herself feel helpless again.

“Ben!”

Right on cue, Ben and Madman came charging out of the stairwell. The moment Ben made his appearance, he let out an ear-splitting howl. Blood erupted from his arms and shoulders, shooting out and swirling about him. The blood curled in the air, twisting and forming the silhouette of a terrifying elephant. The shadow of an elephant hovered over him like a crimson guardian. Being the first time Mary had actually seen Ben use his enhanced powers, she was actually terrified at the sight. However, she could also tell that the display was taxing for Ben. Blood Wolf was using his own life blood to fuel the apparition and though he was a super and a werewolf, that was several gallons of blood that was sapped from his body in that moment. Thankfully, the guardian seemed to move in an instant, maybe even reacting to his subconscious as it curled its huge, beefy arms around him as the bullets came flying towards him. The bullets smashed into the construct, shattering and with liquid disappearing into the deep, ruby, constantly undulating fluids.

“Not this time, asshole,” Ben snarled.

The huge, crimson werewolf charged forward, his elephantine ‘cowl’ following over him.

With Ben as cover, Mary leapt past the injured Lars and charged at the gunmen. She had noticed that her speed and strength had been enhanced since her transformed and though it sickened her to think that she had been transformed into a super thanks to Tibia, she was going to use every ounce of her body to stop anyone else from suffering the safe fate. The gunmen, however, were just as trained as Tibia’s men even if they currently didn’t possess any of the baseline powers or even derivative ones. Theoretically, that meant they had the advantage. Theoretically. But they were still getting used to their enhanced powers and that was the only reason she could think of for Lars being defeated so easily.

“No wait!” Lars pleaded mentally.

“We got this,” she reassured, bringing her blades crashing down on one of the gunmen. The goon leapt back, spinning around and unleashing a roundhouse kick. Mary was quicker, however, and ducked the blow before throwing herself at the man and sending them both crashing to the ground. They slid across the floor until the man’s head was just hanging over the edge of the shattered window. Far below, she saw that both Shockstorm and Siren had been knocked unconscious, likely struck by a sniper from one of the henchmen.

Snipers…

“Snipers!” she warned mentally and immediately rolled off the man before a bullet came flying past her left cheek, just barely missing her thigh as it hit the ground.

Bren wasn’t so lucky, however, and he was struck three times on the chest by the snipers before being knocked to the ground. The tiger, grimaced, his eyes already starting to droop as the tranquilisers took their hold. Then he turned that grimace into a grin as he immediately turned the barrel of his rifle at his own chin.

“I’ll be back,” he growled.

Then he fired the rifle. The stasis field immediately wrapped around his entire body, shutting down that clone. That must have been enough for the Respawn Device because just a few seconds later, the elevator dinged and Bren came charging back in, swiping up his discarded rifle and began firing once more.

“Quick!” Bren shouted, pulling two of the henchmen off the ground with his paws. “Get the civilians out of here! I’ll cover you!” With a roar, he hurled both men out the very same windows that they had shattered.

“Don’t kill them!” Mary cried.

“Why the fuck not!? They’d -”

Before he could even finish that thought, there was a loud sound like compressed air being ejected followed by rapid whirling. Ben turned back towards the men he had discarded and -

Thwack! Thwack!

Two huge, metal claws shot right past his bloody guardian, digging painful spikes right into Ben’s shoulders. Each of the claws was connected to a thick, metal rope. The ropes abruptly went taut and Ben was pulled towards the windows.

“Blood Wolf!” Madman roared and charged after him, dropping his chaingun and seizing the huge wolf before he plummeted to his death. Madman jammed his feet into the ground, pulling up tiles as he was dragged across the floor. Ben stopped just at the edge of the building, panting hard and gasping.

“What the hell…?” he began.

Those two men he had hurled suddenly came launching back from the edge of the building, the ropes having come from their guns - grappling hooks. They landed right next to Ben and Madman, guns levelled at them.

“No!” Mary cried.

BAM!

Both the two hardest hitters of the group suddenly went down, the powerful tranquilisers fired at point-blank range immediately doing their work.

Mary grit her teeth and launched forward, blades flashing. It was only her and Bren now. Lars if he could recover quick enough. They had to coordinate their attacks. She desperately reached out with her mind…

… only to find a hard metal wall barring her. It was like someone had encased her brain in lead and she was left alone with her own thoughts. The moment of distraction was enough for one of the other henchmen to crash tackle her from the right, pinning her beneath him and immediately snapping a pair of handcuffs against her wrist. She recognised the design of the cuffs - anti-super.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” came a clucking. Turning her head, she noticed one of the men who had been ‘restrained’ in the leather gear slowly rising from his crouching position. The man wasn’t restrained at all but had just been dressed in same gear as the others and had been hiding there all along! “Just a few days away from Tibia’s little island and already relying on your superpowers. I’m honestly disappointed in you.”

“Let me go!” she cried desperately struggling against her bonds.

“Once we’ve got what we want,” chuckled the man, his words muffled by the gimp mask he was wearing. He nodded towards his men. “Bring us to the next floor. I want some privacy for our little… one-on-one session.”

Not too far away, Bren was surrounded by the remaining henchmen. They confiscated his rifle, preventing him from respawning. They covered Lars as well, ensuring that Arsenal was once again pinned down.

“What do you want with us?” Mary snarled.

The leading man grinned through his mask. He leaned down, cupping her chin, his wide yellow eyes mad with desire and insanity. The stench of leather was so strong that it was cloying but she couldn’t turn her nose away as he kept her chin in a firm grip. Even with all her enhanced strength, she couldn’t turn away because of the anti-super cuffs. The man reached up for the zipper of his mask, pulling it wide open. An oddly long tongue for a human snaked out, licking his large, full lips as he whispered a single word that sent her blood running cold.

“Pain.”

******

Focus.

It was all about focus.

During any game, one had to block out all distractions if you wanted to perform at your best. Football was like a battlefield on its own and the one with the ball was the one with the huge-ass bullseye on their back. For a wide receiver like himself, Caleb had that bullseye permanently placed regardless of whether or not he had that brown, elliptical missile or not. The guy that was assigned to him was a boar by the name of ‘Willows’. The cornerback wasn’t nearly as skilled as Ballard from Bridgewood but he still knew to keep an eye on Caleb. With Keith’s significantly weaker arm, Caleb had farther to run and often had to chase after the ball as Keith was prone to panic. Willows took advantage of that and was often there to block the ‘Halestorm’ before he could even get the ball. Blame was quickly being placed on Keith and he could see that the stress was getting to the poor guy.

Coach Davis called for a timeout after the next disastrous play. The scores were 23-19 in the Raptors’ favour, far less than what was anticipated. While Caleb had managed to get in three touchdowns, the Muskrats were right on their tail. Their strategy had relied entirely on the offensive team steamrolling their defence and getting far enough that the Muskrat’s stronger offensive team couldn’t catch up. But into the third quarter, the scores were relatively close and the players were getting exhausted.

That was the problem with the expectations of the crowd. Though the audience for the Raptors were smaller than those for the Muskrats, their boos cut through the cheers of the crowd whenever Keith didn’t quite make the throw and Caleb was forced to compensate. It grew worse for Caleb as the opposing team quickly saw their weakness and focused on him in particular. He was tackled more and more and his muscles were starting to hurt from all the impacts.

“I’m so sorry,” Keith murmured, keeping his head ducked low. The glowers from the rest of the team didn’t help matters.

Coach Davis paced on the sidelines, hands clasped behind his back in a militaristic style. David Hale was pursing his lips and scanning the team.

“Put me on quarterback,” Caleb said suddenly.

Everyone jolted and stared at him in shock.

“This ain’t no time for your shenanigans, Hale,” growled Davis. “We barely have a lead as is.”

“That’s the point,” Caleb insisted. “Let’s do this while we still have a lead.” Lifting a finger, he said, “I’ve got a plan.”

Davis growled and waved dismissively at him. “You know what? Fuck it. Whatever. Organise it. I’m going to lie down and see if I can get a fucking hold of McLeod.”

Caleb turned towards Keith while the rest of the team glowered at the poor quarterback. He firmly gripped Keith’s shoulders, giving him a firm smile. “Keith, I need you to just keep playing the quarterback but don’t throw to me.”

“What?” asked the shorter groundhog. “But you said…”

“I know. I’m going to place myself as the quarterback. You take up my position.” He turned to the rest of the team. “Everyone, make yourself as big as possible. Block their visibility.” Then he turned back to Keith. “Run towards the end zone.”

Keith grimaced. “I don’t think I’ve got that kind of endurance.”

“Doesn’t matter. Just go for it.” He held out his paw, palm down. “Raptors on three. One…”

Though still shaky, Keith placed his hand on top of Caleb’s. “Two…”

Then the rest of the team followed.

“Three! Raptors!”

Caleb slammed his helmet back on and charged back out onto the field. The small crowd from West California High cheered but those cheers quickly turned to one of confusion when they noticed that the star wide receiver, the Halestorm, moved towards the quarterback position while Keith placed himself as the wide receiver. There were similarly confused looks from the Muskrat’s defence. Before the whistle could be blown, however, the coach from the Muskrats called a timeout of their own. Just as he had anticipated. The Muskrats ran out the clock for the timeout and two minutes later, they were charging back on the field. He could feel the eyes of every opposing player on him.

The whistle blew.

“Tango seven!” he shouted, following the play that would normally be Keith’s call. “Delta nine! Hut! Hut! Hut!”

The football came rocketing towards him and he easily caught it. Then he immediately bolted. West Cali supporters shot to their feet, rising into a cheer as Caleb charged down the field, keeping low and his arms crossed against his chest. He was faster than the other players but he wasn’t looking for speed. At the forty-yard line, he purposefully began to slow as the Muskrats swarmed towards him like locusts. Raptor supporters cheered him on, screaming ‘Halestorm!’ over and over again but their cheers quickly started to die as Willows used his speed and rapidly caught up to Caleb.

At the thirty-yard line, Caleb could feel the boar’s breath right on his neck as well as two others charging down at him.

Twenty and he just barely dodged a swipe from Willows.

Ten and -

WHAM!

The collective groan from the West California High Supporters was audible even as two other, huge, muscled bodies slammed atop Caleb. Despite the pain, Caleb was grinning because stunned silence quickly followed.

“Holy shit! He didn’t have the ball!” shouted the commentator. “Halestorm did not have the ball! I repeat, Halestorm did not have the ball! The ball was in number 75’s hands! Keith Lane! Touchdooooooown!”

The Muskrats removed themselves from him, stunned at what had just happened. Their faces matched Keith’s who was standing in the end zone, clutching the football like he had just managed to escape with the world’s biggest diamond. West California High was cheering as the score went up to 29-19. Not a sizable lead but still enough to inject faith and encouragement back into Keith’s system.

Caleb trotted back to the sidelines as possessions changed. David held out a paw and Caleb gave it a firm high-five.

“Using your opponent’s own preconceptions against them,” said his dad with a pleased smile. “Clever, son.”

He shrugged absently. “I just thought that if they saw me as quarterback, they would think that I’d run with the ball instead of tossing it.”

“They had built up the idea that Keith’s throws would give them greater chances of taking a fumble or possession so by placing yourself as quarterback, you made them think that we’re eliminating that weakness and using your speed to get to the endzone. None of them even saw you give Keith the ball as you ran past him. Most games see players throw a ball. Rarely do they just literally hand off the ball to someone else.”

Caleb crossed his arms with a grin. “Same trick won’t work twice, though. But at the very least we’ve got a bigger lead now.”

Beside them, Coach Davis was roaring at the defensive team. “Run out the clock!”

It was a solid strategy. They couldn’t let the Muskrats get any more points or they risked their lead shrinking at the eleventh hour. The clock said they had about five minutes left in the quarter. Twenty minutes to extend or maintain their lead. That was a lot of time and from the looks of the defensive team, the Muskrats’ offence was trying to push get those six points back.

“Don’t,” David said suddenly. He gave his dad a puzzled look and David returned an expectant stare back, the kind that a father would give as he was reprimanding his son. “I know that look, Caleb. You want to be out there too. You could probably win back the yards we’ve lost but then you’d be back out there on the offence again and doubly as tired. Right now, you’re the only one keeping the offence’s momentum. If we wear you out, there’s nothing stopping the Muskrats from steamrolling us.”

“But I’m going to have to run that distance anyway! Might as well win it back now!”

David gave him a firm shake of his head. “You’ve got to believe in the rest of your team, son. They know that you can win them ground but they want to contribute as well. One man doesn’t make a team. Even Reaper relies on the help of his ‘friends’ to win the day.”

Low blow using Jacob as reference but Caleb saw the point. Just as he had left the rescue of Lars to Mary and her team, he had to have faith in the defence to hold their ground for a little longer. He grit his teeth together, tail twitching in agitation as they lost another ten yards on the third down. That was more ground he would have to run. Keith didn’t have the stamina to run that long and would likely get caught if they tried another fake out. If only the poor groundhog could throw as far as Lars.

“But he can’t…” Caleb whispered softly, his eyes widening. “Keith can’t throw as far as Lars.”

He whirled around and immediately seized the shorter groundhog. “How high can you throw?” he asked.

Keith gave him a puzzled look. “Uh… I dunno…”

“Maybe fifteen feet at least into the air?”

“Sure. Easily. But shouldn’t I be more concerned about how far I throw it and not how high?”

Caleb shook his head, a plan formulating in his mind. “No. Not this time. I’ve got a plan.”

Five yards was lost at the end of the fourth down and the defence came marching back in, looking disgruntled. As they did, however, Caleb seized Gerard by the arm and another member of the offence, particularly the Centre. “Guys, quick! I’ve got a plan! Gerard, I need you to take Centre. Spaz!” He shouted, indicating the fullback - a human by the name of Rowan Trespazki. “You sit this one out. Keith, you take his position.”

“What are you planning here, Hale?” Gerard rumbled.

“Something crazy,” Caleb said, rapidly explaining his plan as the rest of the team went out onto the field. “Gerard, the moment you feel me on your back, I want you to launch me as far into the air as you can. Keith, I’m going to throw you the ball. You need to aim for right here.” He pressed a paw against his chest. “Can you do that?”

Confidence still somewhat shaken, Keith nodded wordlessly.

They marched onto the field, once again confusing the Muskrats as their positions were changed and Caleb was not in the wide receiver position and instead, it was the fullback, Rowan. The Muskrats’ coach didn’t want to risk another timeout not when they still had a full quarter to go. Caleb shut his eyes momentarily as he positioned himself where the quarterback should be. His plan was crazy, insane. Probably only something you would see during a professional match and only if the quarterback was extremely insane. If this didn’t go as planned, he was probably never going to hear the end of it. But he had to make do. Lars wasn’t here to command the team as he usually did so he was just making up plays as he went along.

Perhaps that unpredictability could play to his advantage. There was some irony in that. Once his powers had been incredibly unreliable because of just how random it was and now he was injecting that randomness into how he played football. Maybe even during his fight with Tibia, he had been the wild card. Perhaps if Jacob was the trump card that was designed to overpower all others, he was the wild card, the one that could seamlessly blend anywhere and support anyone.

The thought amused him.

When the clock started running, all Caleb said was, “Go, Gerard!”

The ball was launched into his paws and he immediately threw it between his legs, right into Keith’s waiting grip. He immediately charged forward and did the most unexpected move that even the commentator was stunned into silence.

Caleb ‘Halestorm’ Hale launched himself onto Gerard’s huge, broad back, planting his cleated feet against the moose’s armour and shirt. Gerard - whether out of instinct or intent - immediately bucked and launch threw his head forward. Caleb placed a foot against one of Gerard’s antlers, letting the huge fur’s muscles and strength propel him into the air. Time seemed to slow as he was hurled a good fourteen feet into the air where he twisted around, paws stretched out. Keith was fast but his throwing arm just did not have strength to make those long passes like Lars. So Caleb got rid of the need for long passes; he just needed a short high pass. The two safeties behind the Muskrats’ defence had already moved towards the wide receivers, anticipating another move like the previous play. No one expected Caleb to leap over the defence.

Keith’s arm snapped back and went off like a cannon. The ball slammed right into Caleb’s chest, a perfect spiral. West California High supporters were immediately on their feet, cheering and there were already cameras replaying the momentous play and others watching as Caleb cleared the scrimmage. The big wolf spin in the air, keeping the ball tightly to his chest and crashed to the ground, rolling along the grass. The momentum was good and he turned that rolling into a launchpad to leap to his feet and break into a blitz towards the end zone.

“Halestorm! Halestorm! Halestorm!”

With all his speed, he hit the end zone unopposed. It was with some satisfaction that he slammed the ball right into the bright red, painted grass and threw his head back with a howl. He couldn’t help but grin as replays of the crazy ploy flashed across the screens. Though it was a game in the Muskrats’ home turf, there was no denying that even the commentator and media crew were impressed by the stunning manoeuvre. Even Muskrat fans were cheering and applauding him. Entertainment crossed the boundaries of team colours when it was just that good.

Caleb was still grinning by the time he got back into the pit, the rest of the team patting him on the back. Gerard caught him in a headlock and gave him a firm noogie.

“You ever think of mounting me like that again, Hale, and you better buy me dinner first!”

“I’m taken, asshole,” Caleb laughed, giving the big moose a shove back. “Now get back out there. You’re still on defence.”

Gerard gave him a mocking salute. “Yessir.”

When he reached the Coaches, Davis was beaming from ear to ear and his father was smiling just as proudly.

“Why did you pick Gerard?” David asked as he approached.

“The antlers,” Caleb said, ghosting Gerard’s natural headgear. “He’s the biggest of us all and those horns of his wouldn’t snap beneath my weight.”

“Now that really is having faith in your teammates. You’re utilising their individual skills and physiques to score. I’m proud of you, Cale.”

For once, he was actually happy to have his father’s praise. “Thanks, dad.”

Energised, the Raptors’ defence put up an incredible fight and actually managed to win a whole five yards back by the time the whistle blew and the quarter ended. Caleb grabbed a sports drink and downed it, feeling the sweat and heat despite the cool air. His mind was already racing at what he could do to keep their lead. 35-19 was respectable and he was sure he could expand the lead but there were still fifteen whole minutes in the quarter and if he exhausted his arsenal too soon, he wouldn’t be able to win back any points if he Muskrats rallied at the last minute.

“We got a plan, Halestorm?”

He jerked at the sound of Gerard padding over. A large number of the team was right behind him and those that weren’t standing, were sitting on the benches, paying keen attention. Caleb glanced over towards his dad and Coach Davis.

“Run out the clock,” Davis said. “We’ve got the lead now. Let’s hold onto it. Do not score another touchdown, Hale.”

The team groaned and began protesting.

“No… he’s right,” Caleb said, with a nod. “I’ve got only one more play that we can do that’ll screw with them and I don’t want to use it too soon. We get them as close to the end zone as possible so they’ll have more ground to cover if they try and make for a touchdown. Then, maybe with five minutes left, we’ll unleash what I like to call the ‘Made You Look’.”

He outlined his plan and just as the break was over, the offensive team was up. Caleb went over to his normal position as a wide receiver, once again being guarded by Willows, the boar.

“Finally coming back to face me like a man, Hale?” growled the porcine.

“What can I say?,” he growled back, flashing his fangs hungrily. “I was in the mood for some bacon”

The play was made and Keith snapped the ball towards his halfback. Caleb immediately bolted towards the end zone with Willows following closely. The halfback made a throw towards him; it was a weak one and the West Cali fans groaned as it hit the ground and began skittering along the ground. Caleb raced towards it, making a sharp U-turn before scooping up the ball in one paw. Willows was just a step behind, however, and snatched his right foot, causing him to tumble. He kept possession of the ball, which was the important part. At least ten yards was gained in their favour.

The whistle blew. Muskrats were calling for a timeout. The coaches must’ve realised that the Raptors were now playing conventionally in an attempt to wear down the clock. Now it was going to get tougher. The Muskrats returned to the field a moment later and this time Willows was heaving, panting and psyching himself up. The ball was snapped and Caleb bolted just as henormally did but this time, Willows shot straight towards the scrimmage, offering more coverage. The Muskrats’ coaches must’ve realised that Keith wasn’t capable of throwing as far or as accurately as Lars and were now adding more bodies for coverage. They were ignoring him.

Good.

They managed to tackle the Raptor that had the ball, losing five of the ten yards they had one in the previous try.

That was okay. Their mission was to hold the line. Wear down the clock.

Four minutes, twenty seconds to go, third try.

Again in position, he faced Willows.

“We’re going to grind you into the ground, Hale!” snarled the boar.

Taking a leaf out of Gerard’s playbook, Caleb said, “Buy me dinner first.”

The ball was snapped and again Willows was off shooting towards the scrimmage while Caleb charged towards the end zone.

They lost ten yards this time. Their fans were on the edges of their seat. Sixteen points wasn’t that much and in the span of four minutes and five seconds, the Muskrats could still score the seventeen points needed to win.

Fourth try. As predicted, their kicker, a rabbit by the name of Trevor Wheeler came marching out. The sound of bodies crashing against one another was deafening and Trevor kicked the ball nice and high. Willows, predictably, went after the ball, trying to get a lead on Caleb while one of the safeties shot towards the wolf, hoping to intercept him while either of the cornerbacks tried to make for the ball. Caleb didn’t even try to go for a catch, conserving his strength. It landed on the twenty-yard line. A good distance and putting a good distance for the Muskrats’ offence to cover.

Caleb marched back towards the sidelines, watching in anticipation as their defence fought to keep the ball on the Muskrats’ side of the field. Where the Raptors had been energised by Caleb’s spectacular displays, the Muskrats were empowered by their desperation not to lose. With their strengths being in the offence, the Muskrats managed to cut them back down to their thirty-yard line after a kick on the fourth try.

It was game on and with a good three minutes and ten seconds left.

Back on the field, the same dance played out. For the first to the third try, Willows raced after the scrimmage, covering Keith from all angles while leaving Caleb free and unguarded. They were down to the twenty-yard line when their kicker sent the ball sailing back towards the midfield. In theory, they were back to where they started but Caleb knew that with the Muskrats’ offence coming up, there was a very good chance they would lose some ground.

He was right.

The moment the two teams came crashing again, the Muskrats were attacked with renewed energy and pushed the defensive-line, including the massive Gerard, all the way back to the ten-yard line and just on the second try. Caleb’s claws were digging into his palms as he quietly prayed for their defence to keep their opponents there at least long enough for them to back in the field. But the Muskrats managed to pull a trick of their own and send the ball sailing over to the right of the field where the defence immediately congregated towards. But the wide receiver on that side was also a decent kicker and he managed to send the ball sailing to the other wide receiver that had slipped past the defence. The lion leapt into the air and snatched the ball in an incredible display. He landed nimbly on his feet, as felines tended to do, right in the end zone.

The stadium went wild with the touchdown.

35-25, Raptors in the lead and two minutes, fifty-three seconds left on the clock.

“Now?” Gerard asked, panting as he made his way back to the sidelines.

Caleb indicated a negative. “Not yet.”

He began to regret those words as the Muskrats were renewed with the development. Victory was just within their reach. Just two more touchdowns and they would win. Their defence actually began pushing back Caleb and his offensive team. They were back to the thirty-yard line by the time it was time to switch to the defence again with a huge two minutes, thirty left on the clock. The moment the Muskrat’s offence came onto the field, they steamrolled the defence. Perhaps it was because the end zone was just in sight but their wide receiver, the lion, ploughed through the defencive line, supporting his own teammates and throwing the left wing to the ground. He was offered an unobstructed path to the end zone and though Caleb prayed, it wasn’t enough as the feline made it all the way back to the end with a loud roar.

35-31.

So close now.

And with just a minute and forty seconds left on the clock.

“Now?” Gerard pleaded.

Caleb nodded. “Yeah. Now.”

He trotted back onto the field but instead of taking his usual wide receiver position, he placed himself in the quarterback position. Keith was once again in his place. This was what the Muskrats were waiting for. On the sidelines, Coach Davis was biting his own hat. David Hale was twisting the edges of his shirt in anticipation. Raptors fans were deathly silent while Muskrats supporters were shouting their anthem. If the Muskrats could break the offensive line and get a clean shot to the end zone, they would win. If the Raptors could run out the clock, they would win.

It could go either way.

Strangely, Caleb felt calm. Even in the face of villains, genetic mutilation and perhaps an end of the world, this was the one time he could be calm and not panic.

Focus. It was all about focus.

“Tango seven!” he shouted, following the exact commands as before. “Delta nine! Hut! Hut! Hut!”

The ball was thrown into his paws and just like before, he bolted straight towards Keith. This time, Willows was ready and was keeping a close eye on Caleb and the ball. Then Caleb grinned… and spun to his right, towards the line of scrimmage. There was enough time to see Willows’ look of terror as Caleb hurled the ball right into the fullback’s paws. He wasn’t nearly as good as Lars when it came to throwing a ball but he was still capable of making short passes. The fullback seized the ball, causing the Muskrats to lose their focus. The fullback turned and hurled the ball into the halfback’s waiting hands, now on the opposite side of the scrimmage. One of the linebackers broke from the tangle of bodies and immediately crashed into the halfback but not before the puma was able to throw the ball over the scrimmage…

… and right into Keith’s waiting paws.

Willows’ jaw dropped as he glanced over to where the groundhog had been just a moment later. All the poor boar’s focus had been on the ball and Caleb whom his coaches had no doubt informed him to keep an eye on. After all, Caleb Hale had been the focus of all the crazy plays before. But now, Keith the quarterback was at the forty-yard line, being cheered on by Raptors fans. The Muskrat coaches were screaming from their side but the Raptor’s offensive line kept most of the defence occupied. Caleb did his part and tackled Willows before the boar could rush off after Keith. There was one cheetah, however, that bolted straight after Keith. The groundhog made it to the thirty-yard line before tossing the ball…

… right into the Raptors’ remaining wide receiver!

And just like that, the game was over.

“No!” Willows roared as a touchdown was scored.

The score was now 41-31 and just a mere twenty-seconds left on the clock. The maddening scuffle, the constant passing, it had been enough to wear down the clock and still earn them the coveted six points to cement their lead. Everyone knew the game was over and the dejected Muskrat fans rose from their seats and began filing out. Raptors fans waved their blue and gold banners, the band they had brought with them playing the theme song for the football team.

Caleb snickered and got to his feet. He held out his paw towards Willows who grumpily seized it.

“Made you look,” he said with a final wink.

******

Now that the game was over, Caleb switched his focus to the next thing on his list. Lars and Arsenal. He couldn’t wait to get the football gear off him not only because it felt so good to get the sweaty armour and shirt off but because he needed to hurry and get to South Restreach Street. He was interrupted, however, when the rest of the team crowded around him. Bracing himself for some wet-towel slaps or playful bantering and wrestling, Caleb turned… and was immediately stunned by the serious looks of each of his teammates.

“Uh… guys?” he began. “If there’s someone behind me with a barrel of sports drink, I’m kind of in a rush. I want to find out where Lars went.”

Gerard, the apparent leader of the team, glanced around and shrugged. “That’s what we wanted to talk to ya, about, Caleb.” He hiked a thumb over his shoulder. “Me and the boys have been talking and… Well, we know you and Lars are an item and shit and we know you two sometimes flake for whatever reason but what you showed us today? Man, that was fucking awesome.”

“You made use of the entire team!” Keith exclaimed. “Not just the offensive line either! Even the guys on the defence! You knew our moves! You moved with us!”

Caleb’s brow furrowed. “Guys… what’re you saying?”

“We’re saying we want you to be captain,” exclaimed the excitable groundhog. “I mean, today was the first day I actually felt like I was really playing. I mean, yeah I’m a backup but I never thought my short passes would be any good compared to Lars but you made use of that! It felt like we were actually a team instead of just guys supporting you and Lars.”

He held out his paws. “Whoa. That was my fault as much as Lars. I kind of hogged the ball all the time. So I don’t think -”

“Don’t think about it, Caleb,” came his dad’s proud voice. A heavy paw fell on his shoulder. “Coach Davis and I have been talking about it as well and out of all the people that we’ve been working with, you’re the one that’s really taken to the idea of switching roles to heart. You’ve gotten to know your team members, both sides of the field and their capabilities. I don’t think Lars had gotten that lesson. And I’m not just saying this because I’m your dad.”

Caleb felt a blush on his cheeks. He had never imagined becoming captain of the football team in his sophomore team. Without thinking, he immediately said, “Well if that’s what everyone wants, hell yeah!”

A triumphant roar erupted from the rest of the team and they began chanting ‘Halestorm’ over and over again. No doubt this would reach back to West California High come Monday. Those shots of him leaping over Gerard were likely to make the school newspaper. This was his win. A win with his team. No interference from the Gene Stealers, no advice from Jacob, not fancy tools from AEGIS or divine intervention from the Hounds. It was just him. He made this happen.

And that filled him with an even greater sense of accomplishment that he had felt in a long time.

Still, there was Lars to think of. He got showered - dodging playful slaps to his butt along with a short, ‘Captain’ - and dressed, grabbing his duffel bag and leaving the stadium. Instead of taking the school bus, however, David gestured for him to jump into the family van that he had brought along. He jumped into the passenger seat and just as he was closing the door, someone cleared their throat. He turned and found a rather tall giraffe smiling down at him, about eight feet tall given her neck and appearing a little mannish in her clean, pressed suit, especially with her flat chest.

“Hey there, champ,” the woman greeted. “Do you have a second to talk?”

“Uh…” Caleb glanced towards his dad. “We’re kind of in a rush. Celebrating the victory after all. But if it’s just a second…”

The woman held up manicured, pink nails. “Say no more.” She turned that hand towards him in a friendly shake. “My name is Celeste Takimini. I’m a scout for the West California Island University football team. You may have heard of us. The WCIU Orcas?”

He actually had. When Leon and Lance were looking for colleges to go to after they had graduated, they were specifically looking for teams with sizable football teams. Unfortunately, West California Island didn’t really have a good established football team on the collegiate level as most high school graduates would go to the mainland, either going to San Diego or Los Angeles as they had far more prominent athletic programs with a bigger budget. But neither of the twins wanted to room with anyone else and didn’t want to commute every day form the Island to their school so they briefly considered WCIU. But with a string of losses and never once scoring anywhere near the finals, either Leon nor Lance put that idea firmly in the ‘No’ pile.

“I think I have,” Caleb admitted, deciding not to go into further detail.

“I was watching your performance out there,” Celeste said, beaming brightly and in a friendly manner. “I will admit, I’ve never seen such a command of the field or inventive plays before. Did your coaches come up with that?”

“Actually, he did,” David chimed in. “On the fly too. Seconds before he hit the field, he came up with these plays and put them into action.”

“Impressive. And all while your captain is indisposed.”

David slapped Caleb’s back proudly. “Not anymore! Just discussed this with the head coach and the rest of team. Caleb is going to be the captain from now on.”

Celeste’s bright blue eyes shone. “That makes it easier then.” She held out a card. “Listen, your performance today was something else and I was hoping you would consider applying to WCIU and joining the Orcas. Now I can’t promise anything just yet but we do offer excellent academic facilities and programs not to mention fresh, new facilities for all your athletic needs. I can assure you that as it stands, I’m sure the faculty would be willing to guarantee you a place on campus.” She dropped her voice a little. “Regardless of your grades.”

“I’m actually a solid A student,” Caleb said, frowning. He didn’t frown at her assumption that he was dumb as a brick; he was frowning because that grade game from really easy classes.

“That’s perfect!” exclaimed the giraffe. “Keep up that good work and there could be a full ride waiting for you! Hell, if you bring home a championship even once before you graduate, that full ride is all but guaranteed.”

“Uh…” Caleb took the card. “I’ll think about it, Ms. Takimini. I’ve still got a few years before I graduate but I’ll think about it.”

“Please do.” She waved at him pleasantly, hopefully. “I’ll be watching!”

Caleb shut the door and stared at the card in shock. Someone was actually scouting him while he was playing out there? Him? A sophomore. Seniors he could understand but him? David started the car and he barely registered buckling up as the van headed out of the parking lot. His mind was racing with the possibilities of playing football on the college level. It had always been a hobby for him; a way to keep up his physique and maybe put some of his battle training to good use. But as he thought about playing for a college team, he could not help but think about playing for a professional team someday. Maybe he could even play for the esteemed California Deathclaws.

“You’re actually thinking about seriously, aren’t you?”

He was jolted back to reality from his fantasy of wearing the black and gold of the Deathclaws. “Uh… little bit,” he admitted.

“You know, it’d be the perfect cover,” David snickered. “Rich, playboy football player by day and devilishly handsome crime fighter by night.”

“Dad,” he groaned, rolling his eyes. “Come on…”

“I’m just saying that it’s actually a possibility. I just wouldn’t go with WCIU. The Orcas suck.”

“Suck dick,” added Caleb with snort. “If I wanted to get into the Deathclaws, I wouldn’t play with the Orcas.”

“So you have given this some thought!” David exclaimed happily. “Oooooh! My son! The professional football player!”

“Come on, dad,” Caleb snickered, blushing a little. “You’re making too much of this. That woman was probably just at the game for shits and giggles. Maybe she just saw an opportunity and took it.”

“She wouldn’t have approached you if she didn’t see something special. Just like I do, son.” David gave him a bright smile. “I knew you were special from the first time I saw you.”

Suddenly, David’s features fell and he turned his eyes back to the road. Caleb did the same and noticed that they were at the end of a long line of traffic. Police lights were flashing at the far end of the line of backed up cars. David gave him a quick nod and Caleb crawled into the back of the van, pulling out his Weapons Master costume and quickly got dressed. When he was sure no one was really paying attention, he emerged from the van and bolted down the street.

All thoughts of football were pushed aside for the moment as he focused once more on Lars and his team. It had been well over an hour since Mary and the others had rushed off to save Lars. If the sirens were still blaring, then there was still danger…

… or so he thought.

He came to a grinding halt as he noticed that the flashing lights came from ambulances. Relief washed over him as he noticed people were being led out of the building at South Restreach Street into the ambulances. Lars and the others had won the day.

“Excuse me,” he said, pushing past the crowd. When they saw him, the bystanders immediately parted. He couldn’t help the smile on his face. Despite the hardships, he and Arsenal had made it through the day.

That smile didn’t last long.

In one of the closest ambulances, Arsenal was gathered, heat-retaining blankets over their shoulders and all of them looking dejected.

“Guys!” he exclaimed, bounding over to them. “What happened? What did they do to you?”

Mary looked up at him with worried eyes. Lars couldn’t meet his gaze. Madman shut his own eyes and Ben’s was filled with fury. Rhiannon pursed her lips like she was trying to hold back what she was thinking. Only Bren had the strength to step forward and say something.

“Weapons Master,” began the tiger grimly. “They took our blood.”