FSE

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Becoming Mewtwo

Part One

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Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

Commissioned by Cario

_ _

_ _

Chris yawned, leaning back on his bean bag chair, the old one that he had dragged back to his new place after graduating from university, even though it was old and squashed and well…perhaps not something that should have been in his home anymore. It smelled a bit funny too and, well, he was hoping to bring a lady friend back sometime. That was, if he met anyone, because he just hadn't really put himself out there yet in his new city. Chris had just been glad to land a job after university, as that had been his main goal.

He shook his head, slumped down comfortably, the early afternoon wearing by, though he knew as well as anyone else that he had to take a break at some point too. He couldn't just spend his life working, even if he was still trying to set his life up – he had gone to university a bit later as it was. Hell, Chris had even managed to pay for it himself through selling vintage Pokemon cards and some competitive gaming, most certainly a proud “nerd" who was damn good at what he did. And if it was both fun and netted him some cash at the same time, Chris was never going to see any kind of problem in that.

With his Switch in hand, he followed the path of the Pokemon on the screen, a new type of game where the player had been sent back to the early days of the Sinnoh region. It was interesting, engrossing, so much so that Chris was sure that he could waste days on it, even if he was careful not to let things like that happen. It was good to game, yes, but not to lose himself entirely in it.

Yet the day was growing later and he yawned, putting the Switch down, at least for the moment, and swapping over to watch Detective Pikachu: a movie that had come out some time back that seemed surprisingly good, though he had not seen it yet.

As he watched, Mewtwo came into focus, in a chamber, floating, hooked up to wires, Chris' lips parting slightly.

“Whoa…"

He had not been prepared for how realistic the Pokemon in the game were, much less Mewtwo. Even though he was a Psychic type Pokemon, something about his form exuded a sense of power and control, as if he was physically strong as well as mentally strong. Yet those lines blurred when it came to Pokemon. One that was the size of his palm could have more strength than one that looked like a rhino from the normal world that he was used to. But that was just the weird world of Pokemon, encompassing so much more than the real world, the human world that he was used to, seemed at all able to.

The sleek, powerful lines of the Pokemon's body were captivating, designed on the screen in such a way that Chris swore that he could reach out and touch him, to feel the smoothness of the Pokemon's skin. In a way, Mewtwo's body appeared as if different parts of armour had been slotted together, some definite definition along those lines over the shoulders, and yet it was an organic, natural body – at least in the movie, that was. Chris knew that, of course, something like that could not exist in the real world. That was a shame.

That was very much a shame…

He yawned, his eyelids heavier. Just for a little bit, he told himself. He would rest for a little bit, even though he had not had dinner yet, but Chris was not to know that falling asleep there that night would have the consequences that it did.

It was not as if he was in control of his fate, anyway.

*

Bright light surrounded him, Chris startling awake – but his eyes did not seem to want to open. That was strange, very strange, trying to move his arms, but feeling as if he was floating. Was he underwater? That didn't seem right, not at all, though the pressure of it around him, resisting the movement of his limbs – and something else too? A strange sensation of something moving behind him that was his and not his at the same time – as he tried to come back to himself.

Yet opening his eyes did not reveal anything to him that would settle his mind, Chris' lips parting as fluid ran into his mouth, yet the tubes he was hooked up to seemed to be allowing him to breathe, or so he assumed. They were attached to his body perhaps like an IV would at a hospital, though a lot thicker. And yet that was not his hand before him, a pale grey with a hint of purple to it, blue liquid, however faint it was, swilling around him. On the wall before him resided the logo: TR.

He blinked slowly, heart hammering, the dullness in his senses fading as true panic pulled at him in the bubbles. All bubbles streamed upwards, towards the surface, though knowing in which direction to swim, if drowning, wasn't something that helped Chris at that time.

He tried to retain control of himself, his senses. But it didn't make sense! What… No. Where was he? What was he doing there? People were walking by him, bubbles streaming around his face, the pale blue liquid that he was floating in was translucent, not denying him the ability to see through it. But it made his eyes itch faintly, an unpleasant sensation that, perhaps, had been just why he'd had them closed in the first place, panic clawing at his chest.

His body glowed, eyes wide, straining as if they needed to fit in more than they ever had before. Although his mind reeled, something in him knew exactly what to do as he called on something deeper, feeling the framework of the capsule-like tube that he was inside.

“He's breaking out!"

Dimly, he was aware of the panic of those around him, scientists in white lab coats running, scrambling, fighting – fighting to contain him! That didn't make sense, nothing made sense, but he had to get out, unleashing a burst of what he could only describe as energy, shattering the glass, sending shards flying in all directions, followed by a deluge of blue-tinted fluid. It was as if he was in the thick of everything and set back from it at the same time, his body acting on instinct, though it would not take much longer for Chris to realise that it was no longer just his body anymore.

Instinct controlled him, pulling him through, sailing through the air without the aid of wings or anything like that – nothing that his human mind could comprehend. He moved fluidly, with the directness of an arrow, slamming through walls, ceilings, though it was as if there was a force field of psychic energy before him, protecting his body, so that it was not actually his body that crushed through concrete and metal, instinct seeking freedom.

Behind him, people screamed, but Chris did not stop, flying through the lab and out of it into the starry night, barely even glancing back at the explosion behind him. The lab blew up, burned orange and flashes of white breaking the tranquillity of the night, though Chris did not think that there had been anything much of peace down there for him anyway.

It was the start, though Chris did not know what he was, for he was not something that he recognised, his mind pushed into the back of his brain, feeling set aside and secondary to instinctual power. Yet there was no time for fear to even grip him as he set down some distance away from TR headquarters, if that's what he could assume it was, in the forest, a small clearing big enough for his body.

The grass poked between his toes, tickling as he wriggled them, though that was the last thing that Chris felt before weightlessness enveloped him, collapsing to the ground in unconsciousness.

*

He woke more slowly the second time, for the forest had to be a great deal more comfortable than the capsule he had been trapped in before. Grass brushed his face as he blinked awake, a pink flower coming into focus, though Chris groaned as he slowly pushed himself upright with his forearms, fingers digging lightly into the soft soil.

There was so much sensation there, though his skin felt smoother than it had been, sitting up on his backside, though there was something in the way, something that made him wince and want to immediately shift away from it. Hell, his head hurt! He put a hand to his head, but the shape of his cheek was different, his pulse racing, something that his mind couldn't quite acknowledge yet.

But his backside was bigger, yes, that was different… In fact, his whole body was bigger, even as he gulped and pushed his hand back behind him, shoving a purple tail out of the way.

That wasn't right, no… No, it wasn't right, not even as his eyes roamed upwards to Pidgey and Pidgeotto in the tree, his heart pounding, blood roaring in his ears. No, no, no, it was all wrong, all wrong, so very wrong – where the hell was he? The birds chirped and sang and yet even their calls were all wrong too, the calls of Pokemon and not the birds that he was used to!

“Kreee!"

“Kreekree!"

He didn't know that one, maybe a Spearow, but Chris had to do something, a cool breeze brushing against his skin. But he felt far more of it than he should have, finally realising with a start that he was not only “something else" but completely naked too!

Oh no! Is this a dream? Like dreaming that I'm naked in a classroom?

_ _

It was a silly thought to have, though it would have been a very silly dream to Chris if it had been a dream at all. Even he did not think that he could dream up something that elaborate, as if it had stepped straight out of the movie that he had seen the other night.

Maybe someone had been experimenting on him secretly, he thought desperately, shifting his tail back and forth, the length of it surprising even him, though he did not yet have very good muscular control over it. Maybe that was it, maybe they had screwed with his mind so much that he didn't even think he was himself anymore.

And yet that was not true, of course, for the reality was far more terrifying, and exhilarating, in time, than that. He ran his hands over his body, trying to come to terms with it, trying to understand, yet the smooth grey skin melded to purple over his stomach, running back smoothly between his legs to his tail. There was no sign, at least at that time, of any genitalia, though Chris pawed at his body, even without a sense of loss. No, he didn't feel like he had honestly lost that part of himself, but…well…it was still rather concerning.

His mind didn't know what to focus on, not as he shifted his legs a little further apart, brushing the pads of his fingers across his skin, almost like that of a dolphin – but without the wetness that came with being a marine mammal. Chris gulped, mind reeling, yet there was nowhere for him to go and escape the truth, not as he turned his hand over, inspecting it more closely. There were not four fingers and a thumb there, as he would have expected, but three fingers with a small ball at the tips. That what must have been so sensitive on him, his skin prickling as he'd ran those pads of his fingers over his own body.

Gulping, Chris explored his body, running those fingers experimentally up his arms, feeling the light muscle there, though it was as if it contained more power beneath even that. It was strange, so very strange, but not in a way that he felt that he could put a name to. Perhaps he would learn more in time? Chris didn't know whether that was a good thing or not, whether he was stuck there, in a new shape, or if he had any way at all of going back to his old life…

There hadn't been all that much of a special life back there, however, even if he had never wanted to think about that.

Best to keep going. Best to keep inspecting his new body, cataloguing everything, limb by limb, joint by joint, taking in just how the grass felt tickling his smooth skin, shifting on his backside. The purple was something he could follow behind him and he experimentally twitched his tail back and forth, though it was difficult to control, his chest tighter and tighter. Chris did not understand why his body felt increasingly strange, though fear and anxiety would have done that to him either way, regardless of whether or not he was human any longer, heart pounding, skull aching.

Yet he couldn't contain it for a moment longer as he reached behind him, feeling the tube-like piece on the back of his head, his free hand on his face, feeling his snout, how it pushed forward from his face and yet was still the face of an intelligent being. For there was only one creature that he had ever seen, and that had most certainly not been in his world at all, who had ever looked like that, made clear by the bird Pokemon flitting through the trees above him. He didn't know how they'd gotten there, or more precisely how he'd gotten there, but they were meant to be and he was not, taking on the form of one so much more powerful than he was ever supposed to be.

Mewtwo. His heart pounded, sounding the Pokemon name out in his head, feeling his face, how there were two protrusions, not horns but as if they were part of his skull and face still, pointing back from his head, his frame functional and sleek. If it was a dream, it was not one that he was due to wake up from any time soon, not after having transformed into Mewtwo, shuddering and parting his rounded, soft-edged lips in a howl.

“What the hell?"

That, at least, was what Chris tried to say. Only, the words would not leap to his lips, not as he wanted them to, nothing at all coming out!

What's happening to me? Why am I like this? Why can't I make a sound?

_ _

For there was not even a gargle or a groan rising from his lips, thoughts running amok. At least, however, he still had his thoughts, though that was faint comfort when his whole world was turning upside down, as if everything that he had once known had been turned on its head. He twisted back and forth, tail waving, though the weight of it threw him off balance, yanking him to the side.

Yowch!

_ _

But it was something that he had to learn to control, along with all the other parts of his body, standing slowly, struggling with his new centre of gravity. Nothing, except what instinct had dictated when he had escaped from the laboratory, came naturally to him, having to learn how to move, how to use his fingers with more dexterity, even to walk again.

It should have been daunting, but, frankly, transforming into a Pokemon overruled everything else, not really thinking at all as clearly as he could have been.

Chris tried to talk again, moving his mouth, but it did not feel like the ability to do so was there. Wait – if he was Mewtwo, a Pokemon, did that mean that he could use Psychic Pokemon abilities? Would those allow him to talk?

But he had to take stock of the immediacy, now that he knew what he was, lifting one foot carefully, wobbling and putting it back down again. It was far from easy, the bird Pokemon watching him curiously the whole time, but he paid them no mind. If nothing else, even if they did not know that, he was something like the most powerful being in the Pokemon universe. What could he possibly have had to fear from them?

I need to work this out, need to walk… Whoa.

_ _

He paused, thinking again – just nonsense words. Yet while he could not yet speak aloud, if that was even possible, his thoughts no longer seemed as if they were spoken in his own voice. He dimly thought back to the movie he'd been watching, where Mewtwo had appeared, and shivered. His voice… It was exactly like Mewtwo's. Or the voice of his thoughts, however one was meant to refer to that…

There was still something of him in there, as if his own voice, Chris' voice, lurked in the back of his mind, as he thought, grappling with reality, to walk, clumsily lifting one foot and then the other, but it was like an echo. As if he had shouted into a cave, where perhaps Mewtwo had been hiding, and the Pokemon had risen against him, its telepathic bellow drowning out his voice, swallowing him up whole in a way that only a truly powerful Pokemon could do.

He tried not to think of that, but when every thought came tainted with the voice of another, it was difficult to set everything aside. Getting a little more of a handle on walking, even though it felt clumsy and childlike, like a toddler learning to walk for the first time, coming from a baby into a more developed child, he ran his hands down his sides.

So smooth…

_ _

His hips were flared, his thighs large and strong, though it seemed like they were mainly that size to correct his centre of balance, setting it where it needed to be. His tail balanced him too and he curled it to the side, demonstrating some flexibility, running his hands over it with a shiver.

So sensitive…

_ _

He'd never considered just how many nerve-endings could be in a tail, but they were more sensitive than any human skin could ever have been. He was completely hairless, almost unnervingly so, his hands running back up his chest where there had been some chest hair, as a human male, before, to his slim neck and his face.

There, Chris' fingers lingered, running around the line of his jaw, back to his cheekbone, the shape foreign and yet familiar at the same time. He trailed his fingers, wondrously, over his nose, brushing the tiny tucks of nostrils, smaller than what he was used to, watching as his fingers came up closer to his eyes, large as if they were designed to see more than Chris ever had been as a man. He knew some about Mewtwo, of course, from old Pokemon games, lore and, of course, the movie too, but they were still meant to be a mysterious Pokemon, coming from Mew.

Their power, however, was something that Chris did know, brushing his fingers over his lips as he bared his teeth, a mix that was quite human-like, though without as many molars at the back. He couldn't see what was in there, resolving to find a reflective surface, maybe even simply a body of water, later so that he could better see how he looked. It was one thing to touch with his hands and fingers, after all, but quite another to see it, to be able to understand and acknowledge himself in a mirror or similar.

He had to try something, however, the Psychic abilities that, of course, Mewtwo was renowned for. He was not a physical fighter, of course not, but a special attacker, in Pokemon lingo, one that was best on the offensive with a higher speed stat – but not the highest. Although Chris did not know how that would translate over to him being in Mewtwo's body, he took a breath, filling his lungs through his mouth. At least that part of his body, being able to breathe through his mouth as well as through his nostrils, was the same, but it was a small comfort.

Concentrating, he tried to remember that part of his brain that had felt as if it was tingling, as if it was alive in a way that he had never tapped into as a human. That, more than anything else, had to be his Psychic Pokemon powers, reaching for it, again and again, though it slipped through his fingers. He had to take a lighter hold on it, as if he was pinching the notion of Psychic powers between his finger and thumb, drawing it to the front of his mind as his body glowed faintly.

Up…

_ _

It took a lot more concentration than Chris expected, yet his heart surged as his feet left the ground, hovering as if he was being supported by an invisible platform. He sensed that he could hover differently, taking “hold" of different parts of his body, such as his torso, to stay aloft, though as soon as he tried to fly his powers faded and he thumped back to the ground.

As a Pokemon too, he had to have Pokemon moves – attacks and defences that would allow him to ensure his survival out there, even if Chris was sure that few would attack him. Maybe the stupid ones, the ones that did not know what a threat Mewtwo was to him.

He couldn't remember all Mewtwo's move set, though there were probably moves learned from TM too that he couldn't access. He tried, however, running through what he remembered, speaking the name of the move in his mind as he tried it out, body glowing and tingling, his smooth skin prickling with phantom sensation.

Confusion.

_ _

The air before him shivered faintly as the power left him.

Disable.

_ _

The sensation of something being “locked down" snapped before him, causing Chris to flinch and swing his big tail out for balance. That was a close one!

Psychic.

_ _

A blast of raw Psychic energy lashed out before him, though faded swiftly, even if he could feel the energy. Chris shivered. That would have been enough, surely, to knock over a Rhydon, if not more…

_ _

Light Screen.

_ _

That was a move that was easier to see as a glorious screen of light that appeared to be dazzling and yet did not dazzle him rose before him protectively. He stretched out his hand to it, wondering at his power, how far it could go, though it shattered and sprinkled him in tiny, glowing, yellow stars, the duration of the move not as enduring as it could have been.

So, he could use some powerful attacks, though he didn't want to try for something like Hyper Beam quite yet, even if he was curious about other things. Chris looked back and forth, musing. Maybe he could find some more open space.

Yet a rustling in the bushes had him backing away, hastily learning to walk backwards as several Nirdoran (male) and Nidorino appeared. The small poisonous Pokemon hardly had a friendly expression on their faces and Chris muttered a mental curse.

Time to get out of here.

_ _

He could not run efficiently, but he could run, swinging his tail back and forth to give himself a little more forward motion. The pinkish Pokemon chirped and snapped as they gave chase, though there was something more behind the almost animalistic sounds – something more.

“Gethmmmahah?"

Mewtwo frowned, trying to find a way to make sense of it all. Words? Were they…talking? Yet he had to keep going, landing heavily with every step, pushing his way between the trees. He did not feel, however, as if he was expending much physical energy, power surging through him, carrying him forward in the twist of instinct. That, at least, to help him along, was very much appreciated as it was.

“Get him!"

“Out of our territory!"

“Intruder!"

“Leave now!"

“Chase, chase, chase!"

“Food thief!"

I'm not stealing your food! He shouted back telepathically, though Chris could not be sure whether his spoken thoughts even reached the Pokemon that were chasing him. As the garbled voices became clearer, he realised that he could understand them, even if he didn't know how to make his thoughts connect with them.

Once he paused, slowing, drawing on his Psychic powers, he was able to float again, flying slowly up above the tree line, out of reach of the pursuing Pokemon. They squabbled in the wake of him, but were not bothered too much by him leaving, only wanting him out of their territory.

Such simple lives they must lead.

_ _

But that was not always a bad thing, not at all. In such a vein, he took it upon himself, while allowing more of the Pokemon tongue and language to enter his mind, to live amongst them – in a sense. He was close enough to other Pokemon to hear them hiding as he foraged for food and sustained himself, continuing through the woods to where the terrain grew more challenging, into the foothills of the mountains – yet he never interacted directly with a single Pokemon.

He had some experience, after being in the Scouts, on survival, making fires and finding food, though he struggled to catch fish in the streams he found. Vegetables and naturally grown fruits did better to sustain him, at least until he found a quiet little cabin in the woods, backed by the mountains, secluded and private. It was the sort of thing that could have been the start of a horror story in the human world and yet was perfectly normal in the Pokemon one. That, at least, was something that he had learned from playing the games all that long ago.

If there was a cabin on a route, after all, it was there because it was needed, because it was meant to be there.

Weeks passed, though Chris had never truly believed that it was a dream. The cabin was small and modest, with two rooms, though he only really needed one. He spent most of his time, while indoors, in the kitchen and living area, a sofa there for him to stretch out on, though he had to kick his legs over the arm, tail dangling off. The TV did not work and the electricity there was intermittent, but that was by the by. Chris didn't think that he would have very much use for electricity anymore, if he was honest with himself. He could power things and move things with his Psychic abilities and he could see in the dark.

Human needs… Well, they had already fallen by the wayside.

He preferred cooking on the iron stove in the cabin to starting fires to stay warm, though it helped when he learned to use his abilities, sometimes Disable and sometimes the more aggressive Psycho Cut, to fish. It was unorthodox, that was true, but he grinned proudly, sitting before the stove with his tail twitching gently back and forth, confident in himself, his power, the firm musculature of his strong body.

It didn't matter what was in the rest of the world outside, as long as he was safe there, as long as he had his little corner of it, uncovering his abilities, training, testing all that he recalled of Mewtwo.

Shadow Ball was a fun one to try out, building a ball of shadow energy between his hands and then sending it out, growing stronger and stronger every time he practised. He used trees and rocks, and anything else that could be used as a target, some distance from the cabin that had become his home to train on, though his abilities proved to be more useful in living and survival. Psycho Cut could be used to fish, yes, but chopping trees and wood with the same move took more energy and practice, to refine the skill further. Psychic was more of an offensive move, yet he could use it to levitate a knife in the kitchen too, when he wanted to chop vegetables, gathering them and drying a collection of seeds, which he was going to plant into a little garden outside the cabin.

His cabin. Always his cabin.

Flight, however, would forever remain the most glorious to him as Chris put in the work to master it, soaring into the sky with his arms outstretched on either side of his body. Pokemon looked up at him in awe and he parted his lips, laughing inwardly, though his heart hammered, surging into the sky as if he was a bird Pokemon. The open air brushed his body, naked but feeling whole in himself, powerful, strong, rippling with energy.

Higher and higher, he flew until he touched the clouds and laughed at those that had, once, striven to hold him back.

As Mewtwo, Chris was everything he had never known he needed to be.

There was something, however, about his new body that Chris had not yet explored. There was a small bed in the cabin but he did not use it because his body was too large for it, choosing instead to sleep with the blankets stretched out on the floor. He didn't feel the hardness of the wooden floor as much as he did as a man, finding comfort and sometimes even floating while he slept, which was the most comfortable thing of all.

Yet he knew something was different when he could not sleep one night, not until his restless shifting, back and forth, brought something thick out of a slit between his legs. He urinated from that same slit, what he knew then was the head of his shaft pressing out, softly, to allow him to relieve himself, but had not known the capabilities of his body in arousal.

His hand pressed to it, rubbing back and forth, teasing it as his body glowed blue, the aura surrounding him, flickering and jumping. He couldn't help himself and neither did he have to, as Mewtwo, leaning back as he stroked his thick member up and down.

Ohhh…

_ _

He panted and twisted his head from side to side, his thick shaft rounded at the tip with the head slightly defined, the skin of his purple-grey shaft pulling back and forth, gently, under the touch of his hand with every stroke. He moaned and moaned, rising softly, unknowing that he was floating but not caring either way. What difference, after all, did it make to him when he had everything he wanted there?

Chris did not even want to go back to his old life, not when it simply felt that good to slide his hand up and down his member, giving it a gentle squeeze just behind the head, just to see. Pre-cum trickled deliciously from the tip and he used that to lube up his cock a little more, even as his powers flickered to life.

Without even thinking about it, he groaned, using his powers to stimulate his member, eyes falling closed. But he could feel it, his hands resting on his legs while his powers rippled up and down his shaft, feeling it throb. It was more tactile, even then, than his hands, something more intimate, more sensitive, better than even masturbating as a human being ever had been.

It was a sensation that could never be replicated, like the pulsing of air, pure power, around his shaft, his body arching, rocking up to his desire, wanting more. And Chris was there to take it too, moaning and grunting, nipping anxiously at the inside of his cheek – not because he was nervous but because he had never experienced anything that felt that good.

He couldn't stop himself from tightening his legs, pulling them in closer and closer together, tail tucked up against his back, even though his tail was longer than his body. Chris panted heavily, his chest shuddering with every breath, though he could not sweat, not in that body. All that heat had to build inside him, increasingly, swelling to the point where he could not contain it anymore. His need pulsed as his cock twitched and throbbed, needing it, craving it, wanting to jet every spurt of cum forth, yet he wanted to enjoy the moment too, the progress of everything building up and up to that peak, that crescendo from which there was no coming back.

Ah… How the body and the mind could conflict with each other. He wanted to cum and to get off quickly and yet he wanted to draw it out for as long as possible too, to enjoy every moment. He could choose either, of course, but that was the limits of a horny, sexual body, his powerful cock throbbing within the clutch of his power, even as he squeezed it. Yet the need was there, his toes curling and flexing, still hovering in mid-air, though he was not all that far off the ground. It was just how his powers presented themselves in a lustful moment, giving him everything, showing him that his abilities truly had no limits.

His cock ached and throbbed, drooling fat drops of pre-cum down his length, the sound of masturbating filling the room, though it was not of a hand on his cock but his powers. Psychic powers were far more potent, especially, pushing through, need throbbing deep, pushing up and up and up, right to the point where Chris could contain it no more.

Holy hell… He thought, panting, his lips parting as his head rolled back lightly. I… Oh… Oh, I could…really get used to…_this!_

_ _

Yet he could hardly finish the thought as, finally, orgasm hit him, overpowering him as if he was using his own powers against himself, waves of rich Pokemon seed jetting from him – far more virile than any man! It even hit the ceiling in thick ropes of creamy cum, his lips stretching into an even wider grin, confident where he was, exulting in passion, how it coursed through, every throb and pulse making him want it even more, all the more.

Mewtwo, not just Chris, moaned, relaxing back, his firm body, the rise of his stomach, all covered in his rich cum, still warm to the touch. He swirled his fingers through the mess of it as he basked in the afterglow, his body still glowing faintly, a contented sigh escaping his lips.

“Ohhh…"

His grin did not fade, especially as he inhaled his musky aroma, the scent of sex so heavy, so thick, all hanging in the air. It was almost intoxicating as he chuckled faintly at the seed dripping down the walls, still marking the ceiling. Oh, well. It did not matter, not truly. Nothing mattered as much as he might have thought it did in his old life.

Sprawled on the blankets afterwards, down from floating, a happy, goofy grin on his lips, Chris relaxed, ignoring the mess of his cum for the moment. That could wait, the softness of the afterglow pulling at him, drawing him down, softening, sleepy, wanting to rest.

And, there, there was no rush for him, allowing him to relax in a slower pace of life, learning much more than he had ever anticipated could ever be present in the world.

Well, it wasn't his world, not technically, but the human world. But that was okay. Because Chris didn't even want to go back to the human world again anymore anyway. He never again would.

He was already home.

*

However, there was an issue, back at TR headquarters as TR investigators, dressed in smart navy suits and tinted glasses, paced through the scene, chins tilted, eyeing up the destruction. There had been even more ruined in the wake of Chris' escape than he had realised, but that was not the case. The fire had long been put out, though the ruins hid many secrets, least of all a clue as to where Mewtwo had gone.

A helicopter, with a “G" printed on the side, no more than that, landed beside the mess, the ruins, the rubble, the wreckage of all that had been the pride of TR. Giovanni stepped out of the private chopper, glasses on, his lips pressed together, perfectly clean-shaven, put together in a way that those without the money to do could never quite match up to. With money came power and that was something that he embodied.

Behind him, walked his Persian, the feline moving sinuously, hissing softly as it paused at the wreckage, the broken remains of a capsule tube. Giovanni's lips tightened: the only indication of his displeasure.

The hunt for Mewtwo had begun.

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