Baramon

Episode 1 – Howl

New York.

It was a place where those who had the will, the drive and the ambition could make anything of themselves. Opportunity lay at every corner and to the enterprising individual, it would be entirely possible to make themselves the protagonist of their own rags to riches story. History was rife with individuals who came to the New York City with big dreams and either making it on Broadway as a superstar, setting up their own successful businesses and making millions or even just starting a family.

Sadly, all of that required a couple of things. Money. Influence. Friends and at the very least a high school education.

Things that Hiro West sadly did not possess.

“Fuck!” he roared, slamming his fist into his metal desk. “This is too damn hard!”

From across the room, his roommate Broderick Raven, lowered the book he was reading and cocked his head to the side. “What are you trying to do?”

Hiro held up the piece of paper that was his assignment. Everything was written in perfectly handwritten block lettered that were easy to understand and within the lines. “This essay on the ‘modern day applications of Huckleberry Finn being taught in schools’.”

Broderick slipped his slim figure off the single bed on the far right of the room. Their college dorm room was a built for three individuals but their third roommate had never appeared – or rather no one had applied for it – which left the two of them living in a large room built for three. While Broderick had the large single bed, Hiro had the top bunk of the bunk bed. Hiro had insisted on the arrangement and Broderick didn’t put up a fight. Then again, Broderick never fought… at all.

His roommate of Asian descent wandered over to the squat, cheap desk that had been purchased at the local K-Mart and carried over by hand due to a lack of a car. Broderick’s sharp black eyes roved the page, darting back and forth faster than Hiro could conceive. In the span of a minute, his 5’7’’ roommate had managed to read the 459 words he had painstakingly handwritten over the past two hours.

“I didn’t know Professor Fields forced people to handwrite their essays,” Broderick said, tapping his chin with a finger.

Hiro gave his roommate – not friend – a foul stare and snatched the piece of paper back. “He didn’t. I just don’t have a fancy laptop like you.”

He turned away before he could catch sight of that all-too-familiar look of pity that he got from his fellow students and even his professors. All anyone ever saw was the down-on-his-luck 20-year-old drifter who just recently settled in New York with big dreams. Some knew he got a job at a local fast food store and fewer still learned he just managed to scrounge up enough money to attend college. Sure he barely had anything to his name and his diet consisted entirely of instant noodles but he had gotten this far on his own without anyone’s help, not even his father’s.

“If you want,” Broderick began. “You can –”

“I don’t need your charity, okay?” Hiro snapped, seizing another piece of paper shaking his wrists. A loud crackling noise came from his overused fingers. “I can do this. I just need to focus and stop thinking about how sore my hand is.”

His right was throbbing like someone had recently stomped on it so he deftly switched to his left and began rewriting the entire essay all over again.

“You’re ambidextrous?” Broderick asked.

“What’s that mean?” he growled back, his annoyance at his roommate growing.

“It means you can use both your left and right hands for common tasks. You don’t have a dominant hand.”

Hiro lifted his gaze, his eyes meeting the mirror that was mounted on the wall just in front of his desk. His sharp, green eyes locked with Broderick’s through the mirror. His blonde hair was clipped short to his head, barely half an inch long and some would call a buzzcut. Frugality was the only way he survived in this world since being kicked out of his home at the ripe age of fourteen. An extremely short haircut meant that he wouldn’t have to visit the barber often and he wouldn’t have to spend a lot of money on hair products. Not to mention the buzz cut look was cheaper and he was hoping to buy his own clippers so he could do it himself sometime in the future.

A scowl touched his lips, highlighting the scar across the left side of his lips. “What didn’t you say that in the first place?”

“Sorry…” Broderick murmured, backing away slightly and lifting his hands.

“Whatever. And yeah, I’m ambi… ambi…”

“Ambidextrous.”

He spun and shot Broderick a fiery stare. “I would’ve gotten it! And just so you know, I had to be that… thing because my right hand was broken when I was young and I had to use my left for a lot of things!”

His roommate backed away, his short, spikey black hair seemingly drooping a little after being intimidated so easily. Not that Hiro liked intimidating people but he just despised it when people looked down on him for being a self-made-man.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” he growled.

Broderick glanced at the clock that was mounted on their wall. The clock acted like a divide between the two sides of the room. On one side was Broderick’s half of the dorm room. Fancy electronics, posters of videogames and even his own custom quilt coloured his half. There were comic books, textbooks and even a few candy wrappers scattered about. In contrast was Hiro’s side of the room which was barren, clean and only consisted of his bed and duffel bag. His desk had come about a month after they moved in when he had enough money to buy it without suffering from his savings.

“You’re right!” Broderick exclaimed. “Professor Weed is giving that lecture on societal influences on war and conflict! You wanna come with?”

Hiro turned his back to his roommate and started on his paper again, making sure every letter was within the lines and perfectly formed. “Not even a little.”

“It’s free.”

The magic word for Hiro.

Who was he to argue if he could get a bit of information to expand his knowledge for free? Every bit of information was a little step further away from the street thug that he had been.

“Fine.” He rose from his desk, his cheap, metal chair scraping against the hard floorboards. “Do I need to bring anything?”

“Just yourself. If you wanted to take notes, bring something to do that with.”

Hiro grabbed his pen and his notepad and allowed Broderick to lead them out of the dormitory. Liberty College was a fairly big and new campus located on top of a vast shopping mall in Westchester. The idea was to combine education with easy access to everything students needed to survive. So, the massive campus was constructed on top and around what had been the Liberty Shopping Centre almost completely consuming it. This meant that there was a lot of publicity of the college not only because the students had cheap rent for dormitories and easy access to supplies but also because there was a lot of foot traffic from locals which tended to raise their opinions about sending their kids to the college.

Every thoroughfare in the college was also designed to pass through at least one section of the mall so when Hiro and Broderick left their dorms, they were instantly assaulted by flashing lights, the word ‘Sale’ plastered everywhere and little kids screaming at their parents to buy them this thing or that. Their dormitory – Geiger Hall – was located on the western wing of the mall which was exclusively for clothing. Naturally there was a security door that separated the campus itself from the hall so no one could just walk into the dorms without a pass.

Hiro got the foul looks from all the attendants through their windows as he passed them in his dirty, tan cargo pants and grey shirt with the word ‘FBI’ plastered on the chest in yellow. He wore a black, weathered, leather jacket over his shoulders, perhaps the only thing he had ever taken with him from before he was kicked out of house and home. He wore a red and black visor if only to distract from his nearly bald head and to hide the second scar that ran horizontally across his forehead.

In contrast to him, Broderick wore attire that was more closely tied to the gamer culture. His white shirt was decorated with images of some manga or anime that he favoured while his denim pants were neatly trimmed and perfectly fit his skinny little legs. Broderick had an ever-present chain hanging from his hip which contained a set of keys and his pass that he never took off – at least as far as Hiro had seen. For whatever reason, Broderick always wore a pair of fingerless gloves.

It was a Friday which meant the mall was unusually crowded. Students were either slacking off, eagerly awaiting their weekend and decided to skip class just to hang out in the conveniently close mall. Parents were taking their children to the mall after school given that it was already a little after five in the afternoon and the movie theatre was bustling as patrons clamoured to see the latest blockbuster.

Seeing all of them made Hiro grunt in disgust.

“Something wrong?” Broderick asked.

“Nothing,” he muttered.

Just that each and every one of them doesn’t know how good they have it, he thought bitterly. His fists clenched in fur. Look at them. They can take time off because they don’t have to work themselves to the bone just to eat. They have friends, family, people they can depend on.

He caught sight of a fourteen-year-old pudgy kid who was whining that he didn’t want chocolate for his ice cream.

At his age, I was bleeding, out in the rain, had my right hand broken and alone.

Hiro pushed away those bitter memories, imagining himself packing all the images, all the emotions and thoughts into a neat little box and carrying them into the basement of his mind. There, he stuffed them amongst the other boxes of his past, shut the door and threw away the key. They would always find some way out or something would always trigger those memories but he’d just toss them back into the infinitely vast storage space.

That was all in the past.

He had to focus on the present and the future.

“There’s my little buddy!”

Hiro cocked an eyebrow. Broderick immediately went rigid. Before either of them could react further two big, meaty arms leapt out from behind them and suddenly lifted Broderick into the air, pulling the skinny little chemistry major against a pair of large, muscled pectorals. A little squeak actually left Broderick’s throat as the air was squeezed out of him.

“Tim! Gah! Stop!” Broderick cried.

Hiro inclined his head as the tall – perhaps 6’10’’ – African-American man let down Broderick with a hearty, good natured laugh. Dressed in an Abercrombie and Finch uniform, the towering Adonis was an image of masculinity. A strong, angled jaw only further highlighted his broad, good natured smile with perfectly white and straight teeth. Clearly dyed, blonde dreadlocks were tied back in a ponytail behind him, falling just short of touching his massive, broad shoulders. A single, golden earring hung from his left ear.

“Tim…” Broderick coughed, rubbing his diaphragm. “Where did you come from?”

Tim, the huge ebony Adonis that looked like he just stepped out of the centre spread of a modelling magazine, hike a thumb over his shoulder at the Abercrombie and Finch store a few feet away. “I was working and then I saw you. Thought I’d come over and give my little buddy a hug!” He reached down and ruffled Broderick’s unruly hair.

“Uh… Won’t your manager be mad?”

“Dude, I am the manager!” laughed Tim, gesturing at the golden name plate on his chest that was adorned with the word ‘manager’. “Anyway, who’s this?”

Broderick gestured towards Hiro while trying to reorganise his hair. “This is Hiro West. He’s my roommate.”

Glad to meet someone actually working retail, Hiro held out his hand. “Pleased to meet –”

Before he could finish, Tim reached forward with both arms and plucked him off the ground, giving him a spine-crushing hug. Where Tim let out a squeak, Hiro let out a guttural gurgling noise like a frog having the life squeezed out of him.

“I’m Timothy Thomson! Pleased to meetcha!”

Thankfully, the full body compress didn’t last long and Tim lowered him again.

“You… Uh… you like to give hugs, huh?” Hiro coughed. He suddenly felt very empathetic towards Broderick.

“Handshakes and hi-fives are out of fashion,” Tim said brightly. “The world needs more hugs!”

“Uh-huh.” Tim looked like he was gearing up for another hug so Hiro quickly cut in with a question. “How do you know Broderick?”

“We both take the same psychology class under Professor Weed.” He gave Broderick a sly wink though Hiro was quite unsure exactly what that meant. “We’re good friends with his lab assistant, Gabriel, too. We help him out at his studies every now and then.”

“Lab assistant? Why would a psychology professor need a lab assistant?”

Broderick had recovered from his bone-crushing hug and managed to straighten though his back let out a series of crackling noises as he did so. “Professor Weed just teaches psychology to maintain his faculty standing and to meet some teaching requirement all professors need as part of their grant. He’s more one of those research professors. He researches historical psychological institutions all over the world.”

Hiro lifted his eyebrows. “So he researches mental asylums?”

Strangely, both Tim and Broderick were quite pensive and grim.

“Yeah…” Broderick murmured softly.

Tim suddenly leaned forward and slapped their shoulders happily, nearly knocking Hiro over. “But hey, as his lab assistants we get to go on his trips every now and then! We’re going to this place in Maine next week!”

So skipping school just to go into some condemned madhouse with a professor whose surname is synonymous with marijuana… Great.

“You still up for it, Brodie?” Tim pressed.

“Yeah, yeah.” Broderick gestured towards the hall. “Come on, Hiro. We need to get to Professor Weed’s lecture.”

“Ah, I wish I could go,” laughed Tim. “But got to work! See you later, guys!”

After making their way halfway through the mall – and campus – they finally arrived in the Humanities Department where Professor Pythagoras Weed was offering a free lecture. Hiro couldn’t imagine why anyone would give anything away for free but he wasn’t going to argue when he could get some free education even if it wasn’t certified. Getting into college without a high school degree was hard enough so he had a lot of catching up to do.

He sat near the back alongside Broderick and they watched and listened as Weed stepped up to the lectern. Like many of the other lecture theatres in the college, it was a vast shell-shaped chamber with a gentle slope amongst the seats so everyone had a clear view of the stage. Each of the scarlet chairs had one of those tables that could be unfolded from the armrest which Hiro took full advantage of. Broderick just sat there with his smartphone in one hand, tapping away.

Something else Hiro didn’t have.

Professor Weed was a surprisingly fit man. Looking to be in his mid-forties, Weed only had a bit of grey in his otherwise dark brown hair. Despite the day and age, the Professor sported a pair of mutton chops that hung close to his square jaw rather well. The dated look worked well with his small, square glasses that set on his flat, pudgy nose. Broad shoulders stretched out his thick, brown, woollen jacket and his powerful pectorals pressed up against the white shirt beneath. Even from where he sat, Hiro could make out the thick chest hairs that stuck out from the collar of the professor’s shirt. Though he sported a bit of a gut, it did not detract from the overall appearance that Weed was a powerlifter.

Though for Hiro, it was just another sign of privilege. Here was a man who managed to teach at a full- time job and still manage to find time to work out. There was a bit of jealousy in that assessment given that Hiro was 6’2’’ and fairly skinny due to his lack of nutrition. He wished he could build muscle but he simply did not have the funds to get a monthly gym membership.

Beside Weed, helping set up his presentation and handing out what seemed to be a summary of what they were discussing for the lecture was a tall, square-jawed man with rosy-red hair. Like Weed, the man was quite fit and wore a trench coat even though they were just starting to get into autumn. He looked to be of German descent with a pair of sharp, green eyes. He wore his hair back in a ponytail.

“I take it that’s the lab assistant?” Hiro whispered to Broderick.

“Yeah. Gabriel Haussler. He’s really nice.”

Gabriel chatted idly with a few girls near the front while handing out the pamphlets. Weed had to tell him to hurry up before he would move on.

Lazy and just using his job as a means to fornicate… Great.

“Good afternoon everyone,” Weed greeted, his voice bright and cheery despite his thick neck. “Nice to see so many people interested in social psychology. Then again, I wouldn’t blame you if you came here for the free lecture!”

The professor chuckled which prompted other students to let out a soft guffaw as well.

At least he knows what his audience wants, Hiro thought. Then again, I guess a psychologist should know.

“Today we’re covering the impact societal influence has on world conflicts,” Weed said, dimming the lights from a knob on his lectern. A presentation sprang up behind him, PowerPoint from all appearances though Hiro couldn’t really tell. Technology was never his forte. “So let’s begin…

“Everything in this world revolves around conflict. The battle for supremacy over borders. Conflict. Hunting for food to sustain one’s self. Conflict. Creating law that would govern a country. Conflict. Evolution. Conflict. Even the most peaceful of religions have some form of conflict within them. I am not speaking of conflict that has swords drawn, death at every corner or bloodshed. No. Conflict is the struggle, the experience of battle. Our world is shaped by it.”

Weed was a charming and engaging lecturer and despite not being decided on which major he wanted, Hiro found himself engaged by the topic thanks to Weed’s teaching style. The professor actively moved across the stage and even up the aisles of the lecture theatre as he taught. No one in the seats looked bored and even Broderick set down his phone to listen who wars were fought and won not on the battlefield but back at home.

Weed went on about how the world, history and indeed their future was shaped by the battles fought not only between factions but also within people. A person was not born a leader. They had to fight to become one. A psychopath had to fight to get their thrills. A famous actor had to fight for that role. There was conflict everywhere and each one chiselled a new path, a new name in the unyielding stone that was time.

“When you have no people willingly to pay for your war, you will already have lost,” said Weed. “You can have the biggest muscles, the deadliest guns, the fastest feet or the smartest mind in the entire world but if you have no one supporting you, you will fall. Conviction!”

The sudden announcement made everyone jump.

“Conviction to your cause is what will win you the day,” said Weed. “Even a man who faces a losing battle will be remembered forever as a winner because he remained convicted to his cause. Martyrs are made if they stand true to themselves and their convictions. You hand your enemy victory when you surrender. But let’s look at times in history where it is not only how it is the opinion of the winning side that dictates how history is written but how the conquering force is received…”

Hiro drank all the information in, enthralled.

Sadly, it all had to come to an end as the hour ended. Hiro checked his watch and swore quietly.

“What’s wrong?” Broderick asked.

“I’ve got to go to work.”

The flood of students made it impossible to leave immediately so Hiro was forced to wait, tapping his foot impatiently as the other students filed out. When he was finally clear, he got up to leave. Broderick was just a step behind him but another student ploughed up the stairs, shoving Broderick back into the seats and ramming right into Hiro.

“Hey! Watch it!” Hiro shouted, spinning around.

The man he did not recognise. The first thing that came to Hiro’s mind was ‘privileged punk’ especially with the stark, pink hair cut in one of those styles were the sides and back were purposefully cut short but the top of his head was left long, wavy and doused in hair gel. The sides of his hair was left dark so that it melded perfectly with his short, perfectly trimmed beard with such sharp edges that they could’ve cut through glass. The overall pudgy features of the man only disgusted Hiro all the more especially with the golden nose ring that hung from a rounded nose. The student wore a black shirt with some heavy metal band logo on it and had two of those leather bands on his wrists with spikes on them. His jeans hugged his fat thighs quite well and looked rather snug but the fact that they were purposefully torn across the thighs made them look like they were straining against his porcine figure.

“You watch it, asshole!” growled the student.

“You just knocked over another student!” Hiro snapped. “What’s your rush?”

The man slammed his chest into Hiro, pushing him back a few steps. “What’s your problem!?”

Broderick was on his feet. “Hey!” he shouted with surprisingly authority that Hiro had never heard from him in the past three months since they had been roommates.

Stunned, he glanced over to Broderick. The light caught the timid Asian man’s eyes in such a way that they flashed blue for a moment.

Trick of the light… yeah…

Suddenly, the bully looked a little frazzled like he had just seen a ghost. Then his features darkened and his lips curled upwards in a snarl. “You want some of this, punk?”

Broderick blinked a couple of times and just like that, his bravado faded. “I –”

“Not in here boys!” Professor Weed shouted from the stage. “If you want to fight, take it outside.” Though he said those words in the most casual and upbeat manner, both Broderick and the punk that had knocked him down immediately calmed. They glanced at Weed then at one another.

“Fine,” grunted the pink-haired bully. He turned and shouldered his way past Hiro, disappearing out of the lecture theatre.

Broderick sighed, his shoulders slumping and a look of exhaustion on his face. It almost looked like he had just relieved himself. Hiro frowned and glanced around him. Everyone else was ignoring the exchange and just shuffled along.

Should I… Should I comfort him or something? He’s already on his feet…

“You okay?” Hiro asked, still standing about two feet away from his roommate.

“I’m… I’m fine…” Broderick said, shaking his head quickly. “I need to go too, Hiro. Uhm… Have fun at work.”

His roommate quickly slipped by him, disappearing down into the crowd and leaving the young man entirely confused about what had just happened. A loud beep warned him that he was approaching that point when he would be late for work and he pushed aside those thoughts, packaging them up into his nice little mental cardboard box and placing it into his storage-space for useless thoughts, memories and emotions.

Once again focused on maintaining his lifestyle and getting his degree, he hurried back to his dorm room only vaguely taking note that Broderick was not there when he arrived. He grabbed his ragged, old, sports bag, slung it over his shoulder and hurried back out of dorms to parking lots shared by both students and patrons of the mall. There, he found his old but reliable red bike. It wasn’t even a multi-speed bike. Just one of those ones that you peddled and it would carry you from point A to point B. He unchained it from the rack, stuffed the chain and log into his bag and quickly hurried off to a local restaurant known as ‘Marciano’s Bistro’.

However, ‘local’ was a loose term. With the Liberty Mall being so vast, Marciano’s logically couldn’t get much business because of comparative prices and other high-end restaurants. On bike, to took thirty minutes to get there and that was if he peddled hard.

And Hiro peddled as hard as he could.

He waved in and out of traffic, ducking in and out of the bike lane – sometimes illegally – just to get to work on time. His supervisor was a real hard-ass on people who came in late but it also didn’t help the fact that he just particularly didn’t like Hiro. Perhaps it was because of how he looked or because – in Hiro’s opinion anyway – he tried too hard. Jeremy Creed wasn’t a very ambitious man and liked his job in as shift supervisor at a moderately-successful bistro. Any threat to his authority or position from, say… a young go-getter with an attitude like Hiro tended to set him off like a powder keg.

Thankfully Hiro arrived with plenty of time to spare and Jeremy was too busy berating some of the newer kids to speak to him. He just went into the locker room, got dressed in his white and black uniform and then took up position as one of the many waiters. Just another face in the crowd trying to earn tips to make a living.

Putting on a brave and welcoming face came easily to him but he could not help the nagging feeling in the back of his head about what he saw back at the lecture theatre. Broderick’s eyes seemed… so different. His roommate seemed to different. Assertive. Confident.

What happened to him…?

******

It was well past eleven in the evening when Hiro’s shift finally finished and as always, he felt exhausted. Thankfully, he didn’t have class until just a little before noon the following day so he had twelve hours to rest. The chef at the bistro let them have any of the unserved meals so he had a decent enough dinner before he took his bike once more and took a leisurely ride back to the mall.

Throughout his shift, he had been plagued by what had occurred in the lecture theatre back at Weed’s free class. It just seemed so… strange that Broderick would even react like that. He had taken his roommate to be quite timid.

Maybe it was just a knee-jerk reaction. He did back down eventually…

Hiro shrugged it off. Thirty minutes later, he was rolling up to the front of the mall. Naturally, everything was dark and shut for the night. Though a few lights shone from the campus grounds and there were parties going on given that it was a Friday, most of the mall itself was very quiet and shrouded in darkness. With his student pass, he managed to get into the parking lot without issue and weave through the student-owned cars there. He parked his bike on the rack, chained it up and straightened.

Arms behind his head and relaxing, he headed back to his dorm. He was just about to reach the security door to enter the campus-only area when he noticed someone approaching from the other side of the glass doors. Stunned, he quickly ducked behind one of those horrible potted plants that tried to make the mall seem more ‘natural’.

Broderick hadn’t seemed to notice him and stepped through the security door with his head down and a baseball cap over his features. He was wearing his favourite lime-green hoodie which made him easy to stop and he walked with purpose. Hiro thought about calling out to him, to ask him where he was going but then he thought again.

He’s not acting like his usual self. Maybe I should follow him.

Concern bubbled up in his chest but he quickly sliced that in two. Whatever he may have felt towards Broderick was tossed into his basement-of-forgotten-memories. What was left was concern over his own wellbeing. Wild speculations began whirling around in his head.

What if he’s a druggie? That punk looked like he was a user… or a pusher. What if he recognised Broderick as his client or something and that’s why Broderick backed off?

He can’t afford to piss off his pusher…

If Broderick was using drugs, he could not be roommates with a guy like that. The last thing he wanted was for some of his personal effects of money going missing because Broderick needed an extra fix.

Eyes narrowed and determination replacing his concern, Hiro fished out his phone and got the recording function ready. The moment Broderick turned the corner, he quickly followed, keeping low and silent in his tennis shoes. He peered around the corner, keeping his back flat against the wall. Broderick was heading down to the front of the mall, outside.

Hiro followed at a respectable distance, just far enough to not be detected but also close enough not to lose Broderick entirely. Given that they were the only ones in the mall at the time, it was fairly easy to see where his roommate was going. Once past through the broad double doors for students only, Hiro followed Broderick all the way to the east side of mall/campus to the eastern open air carpark.

The carpark was completely empty save for a few student-owned cars. Normally, students were encouraged to park in the secure parking instead of out in the open for security purposes but with everything shared by the general public, sometimes there just was not enough space. This gave Hiro the opportunity to slip behind a red sedan.

There was another figure in the carpark, standing alone between the lanes.

It was the punk.

And Broderick was going to him.

Hiro grit his teeth and quickly fished out his phone. While remaining out of sight, he kept the camera on the two. The few lamps in the carpark provided ample illumination so he could make out the features of the two.

This is it! I’ll catch that drug-using bastard in the act!

******

Across the parking lot, just about twenty feet away, Broderick lifted his gaze, locking it with his opponent. Nerves were causing his knees to shake. He didn’t want to do this. He never wanted to do this. But it was the law. Their gazes had met. They had both activated their Eyes of Ruin_._ And now they were bound to fight.

“For the record,” he murmured softly. “I don’t want this. I never wanted this.”

“Yeah?” snorted the pink-haired student. “Then this is going to be really fucking easy!” He massaged his knuckles ominously. “Alright so let’s get the formalities out of the way.” He spread his thick, meaty arms wide as if ready to give Broderick a big hug. “My name is Butch Moors. Boar Clan.”

“Broderick Raven. Stag Clan.”

For a second, Butch closed his left eye. When he opened it again, instead of the dull brown, it was a fiery yellow. A wicked, mad grin crossed his features and a deep, cackle left his lips. When he next spoke, the voice that came out of his throat was alien with a strange twang to it like it was being artificially synthesised.

“And you can call me Bouncer!” laughed Butch.

That voice unnerved Broderick. It was the sound of a Psyche who was not entirely in harmony with his Manifesto or perhaps one that was not truly manifested. That made him incredibly dangerous and unstable.

“Hey, don’t worry about it, bro!” came a voice from deep within the recesses of his mind. “I got it! You got my back?”

Broderick nodded slowly and lowered his head.

Always, he thought solemnly. Let’s do this.

When he opened his eyes again, both were a bright, sky blue. His stance suddenly shifted and a cocky grin crossed his features. Broderick straightened and jabbed a thumb against his chest.

The voice in his head manifested through his throat, upbeat, cheerful and a little carefree. “And I’m Buck!” He immediately reached for his pants, unbuckling his belt and revealing his flaccid dick. Without hesitation, he removed his hoodie and shirt as well, tossing them aside. Butch/Bouncer didn’t share the same courtesy and just crossed their arms, unimpressed.

“Alright!” Buck shouted, grinning broadly and tossing aside his baseball cap. “Let’s do this!”

“Thought you’d just spend all night stripping!” Bouncer laughed.

They locked gazes. Whatever the colouration of their eyes were before, they immediately shifted to a bright, fiery red. A black, horizontal bar cut through their irises perfectly across the pupil before a vertical one bisected it right down the middle. Their pupils glowed a bright red to match their irises while a black ring cut through the cross about midway between the edges of their irises and the pupil. A deep, red glow erupted from their pupils themselves as if their souls were shining through.

Directly at the middle where their eyes met, there was a flash of light, a tiny spark like a piece of flint being struck against steel. It struck one, twice and then upon the third it erupted. A dome of darkness spread out from the burst of energy, seeping out all around them and darkening everything it touched. Colours instantly became muted. The white of the lamps became dulled by a grey filter. The green grass was masked in darkness and became nearly-black. Even the bright red of the sedan nearby was subdued as if a fine layer of dust had been spread over it.

The only things that remained ‘fully coloured’ were the two combatants.

Both of Butch’s eyes suddenly returned to their brown colouration as Butch relinquished control over their body. The pink-haired punk suddenly moaned and fell to his knees. An immense pressure built up in his pants and he swore.

“Fuck, Bouncer!” growled Butch. “Take off my fucking clothes! They’re expensive!”

His eyes flashed yellow again. “Fuck you! I ain’t holding back!”

Buck/Broderick watched the exchange from a distance.

“Bro,” Buck whispered softly. “Looks like they don’t like each other. They’re not in synch.”

“Right,” Broderick said back. Though he could feel his lips moving, his physical form did not actually move. Everything he said was contained within the mental realm that both he currently inhabited while Buck had control of their body. “We might just be up against one guy.”

“Not gonna get overconfident though, right bro?” Buck grinned brightly. “You ready?”

“Yeah. Let’s do this.”

Buck relinquished control over their body, his eyes switching back to the intelligent brown behind those classes. Broderick had enough time to toss aside his glasses before an intense pressure built in his groin. Incredible power came rushing through his system, pumping through his veins like hot lava and surging all towards his balls. A loud gurgling noise filled his ears. His testicles visibly jostled in his sac, growing bigger and bigger rapidly and crashing against one another like they were two boxers struggling within a ring. With each inch that they grew, creamy, white hair began taking the place of his black pubes. They quickly overwhelmed his growing sac, wreathing them in a comfortable, furry coating even as they continued to grow to the size of baseballs.

Broderick’s dick pulsated with the same heat as his stores for his seed started to strain. Blood rushed into his cock, stretching it to its full five and a half inch cut length. A gasp left his lips and he instinctively closed his eyes as the pressure and the pleasure became too much for him to bear.

“Remember what Primal said, bro,” warned Buck. “Keep your eyes open. This is when you’re most vulnerable!”

Broderick squeezed open his eyes even as all the strength began to leave his legs as the arousal became overwhelming. All he could think off was his dick and just how good it felt, how much more he wanted it to grow and how amazing the next stages would feel. He groaned loud, a sound matched by Butch across the parking lot. The pressure in his balls began seeping into his dick. Every beat of his racing heart pumped more and more of it into his shaft. The walls of his cock stretched, it’s length growing bigger and continued to fill with this incredible power. Even already at full mast, that strength surged into his length, pushing it past his five inches to six, then seven and then a mammoth eight!

“D – D – Don’t milk this…” he groaned. “We need to… ah!”

“Damn, man. Feels too good to let go but you’re right. Brace yourself!”

With a sudden gasp, his cock erupted outwards like a massive, pink rocket. The human shape completely gave way to a more bestial form. The pale flesh transformed into raw, pink coursing with veins and partially translucent. His glands stretched out to become a tapered, slim point that rocketed up well past his belly button. Its entire length gave another tremendous surge, hurtling towards his mouth in a shower of sweat and musk. Broderick barely got his mouth open in time before his enormous cock that bridged the gap between his crotch to his mouth and was as thick as his arm shot straight down his throat.

The touch of the hot organ was electric and Broderick barely got time to prepare himself before the pressure from his balls came blasting up his cock. Like a tremendous geyser, his hot seed came rocketing up the entire length of his two-foot-long dick. The torrent rushed into his mouth in a single, tremendous blast, blowing out his cheeks. Broderick immediately swallowed but barely got the first blast down before the second came rushing in. He diligently drank every drop, his eyelids fluttering with euphoria. Waves upon waves of pleasurable heat coursed through his veins and all his strength left him. He fell to his knees, hands slumped by his side and only kept upright by the rigid member stuck in his mouth that kept pumping more and more seed down his throat.

He immediately went into autopilot as he drunk every last drop. Beneath his fluttering eyelids, his dark brown irises obtained flecks of blue around their edges. Streaks of baby-blue cut through the brown, rapidly spreading outwards until every last fleck of brown was completely gone. Broderick slipped back away from his body, relinquishing control to Buck. He could feel everything, see, smell, touch, everything his body could but it was like he was watching it all through a filter.

Buck was in full control now.

And that meant the best part was to come.

Buck pulled his lips away from his mutated dick, throwing his head back with a grin. “Awww yeah!”

As the last drop of his molten seed dropped down into his stomach, the power contained within spread all over his physical form. Veins grew plump and full of blood, eagerly filling every muscle and organ with his strength. A loud noise like ruffling grass met his ears. The black, spiked hair swept back and forth, possessed of their own will. The roots became bleached, turning into a golden blonde that quickly spread rapidly through from root to tip. Every strand rapidly grew, thickening and curling. The spiked hair that was a cut out from an Asian cartoon became wavy, full of body and quintessential of a surfer or, in this case, a college fratboy.

The tips of his fingers twitched and he lifted his hands, glad that Broderick hadn’t taken off his favourite gloves. His fingernails immediately blackened, turning dark and harder like diamonds. They grew bigger, thicker, wrapping around the tips of his fingers and capping them off entirely. Then every finger pulsed. They twitched irregularly. Every spasm caused a surge in muscle and bone. His digits became longer, thicker, fitting the big fighting gloves perfectly. His palms widened, filling out the gloves and even strength them a little. Auburn hairs pushed out his pores and more. They spread wildly across his flesh, sweeping over his fingers and covering his hands with a sensation akin to someone taking a paintbrush across his skin. Countering that was creamy white fur akin to the one covering his balls which spread over his palms.

Veins coursed up from his hands, spreading all over his forearms in a widespread, blue delta. Where they passed, only a second later the muscles surged and ballooned. Each tear-shaped form pressed up against his skin, straining it to the point where it became almost translucent. Added to that the stretching of his bones and his flesh almost tore asunder. Then came relief as his fur rapidly spread up his forearms, consuming the thick, ham-like muscles in a soft, short pelt.

His upper arm was next and Buck lifted his right arm, flexing it back and forth, admiring how every little pump caused the lump to grow bigger and bigger. He could not help but lick his lips in anticipation as the mound grew. 14 inches, 15, 16, 18, 20 and then even to a monstrous 22 without showing signs of slowing! His veins pulsed over his skin like a net desperately trying to contain the growing muscles that would’ve made any bodybuilder blush. With each flex, he pumped change further and further through his body.

He threw back his head, letting out a loud moan. The brown fur crawled over his shoulder, paving the way for the muscles there to erupt into huge, scalloped mounds pressing up against his flesh like they were must ready to burst. Big, blue veins swept up from beneath the carpet of fur, rolling up his neck and down his chest like a tree’s roots digging deeper and deeper into his body. Every inch they passed, the muscled there hardened and inflated.

Buck’s neck broadened rapidly, his Adam’s Apple pushing up against his skin and remaining taught and pronounced so there was never a doubt that he was male. The muscles across his back blossomed with every heavy breath that he took. Hills and mountains of flesh built in perfect symmetry, broadening to three times its original side and with a distinct ‘V’ shape where his lats tapered towards his waist. The line of his spine was formed the axis of symmetry down the anatomically perfect canvass. That very same line stretched upwards while his body widened. One foot, two feet of height was added to his already enormous stature. The same brown fur quickly swept over the mounds, absorbing the hot sweat that built from his rapid growth.

Buck lunged forward, his one human arm catching his weight. The impact sent tingled up his arm. Bones and muscles quickly surged, matching his already inflated arm and bringing a tremendous roar rising from his lips. The veins popping from both his limbs met swept up his shoulders and met at the middle of his collar bone. His roar grew deeper and deeper, longer and louder as his flat chest swelled. Nipples leading the charge, his pectorals grew bigger and bigger, widening to fill out his already broadened shoulders and bringing most of his upper body into proportion. Every band of muscle was perfectly accentuated beneath skin. Even when the auburn fur stopped just around the base of his pectorals to be replaced by softer, bushier white fur, no definition was lost.

His huge hands clasped around his belly as the growth of his spine stretched the muscles and organs there. Loud gurgling bubbled up in his stomach where his seed had first settled. The bubbling was so strong that it pushed up against his skin, pushing the hard, block-like abdominals out and keeping them there. Each growth was met with a solid grunt. Beneath his fingers, every ab pulsated and hardened, flexing over and over again to new sizes until his belly button all but disappeared within their folds. The soft, bushy white fur that dominated his chest swept downwards and met his pubic hairs, turning the black bush there into the same, soft white that wrapped around his balls.

Feeling the majority of his transformation completing, Buck lifted one leg, pressing his bare foot against the asphalt. The moment he did, his toes vibrated. Like his nails, the toenails hardened and turned black but the individual digits began gravitating towards one another. The blackened nails collided with one another and began meshing together. Flesh, bone, muscle and sinew all merged with only a single divide down the middle. Cloven hooves took the place of his feet, their roots immediately sprouting brown fur that swept up his legs. The skinny twig-like calves shuddered and quaked, pumping full of mass rapidly until each was five times its size and enormous heart-shaped muscles that could easily support his enormous weight. His bones stretched a little further, adding another foot to his height with the lengthening of his thighs.

He grinned broadly as he rested a hand against his quads, his pride and joy. The muscles beneath his fingers grew, bubbling up and growing as if to meet their father. Every strand of muscle was perfectly defined, a network of veins crawling out across them to add the perfect texture to make sure everyone knew just how masculine he was and where all his strength was. With the added strength, he finally rose to his feet, rising to a full 8’5’’ of height with the last vestiges of his human form resting in his face.

With a contented smile, Buck leaned his head back. The fur crawled up from his neck, creeping around the edges of his jaw. Where they touch, the bone shifted. His jawline began pulling further and further away from his face, taking his nose with it. Teeth rearranged his mouth shifting and shuffling while he let out a deep moan. As the force pushing his face forward, immense power began pushing up from the inside of his head. These two forces pushed two, gnarled growths out from just behind his temples. These growths quickly spread outwards, branching off into ten, immense prongs. His blonde hair covered where they emerged, also slightly covering the pointed ears that flicked back in pleasure.

Buck had to fight the temptation to seize his huge, throbbing member that now just hung just below his limit of his pectorals. He still had a fight to win after all.

Across the parking lot from him, Butch was still struggling with the transformation.

He smirked at this. Clearly an undisciplined Manifesto and a rebellious Psyche. This was going to be easy.

“What are you doing!?” Broderick cried from deep within the recesses of their mind. “Attack him now!”

“Bro, this ain’t gonna even be a challenge,” he chuckled, crossing thick, corded arms and waving absently. “Let’s give him a fighting chance.”

“No! You remember what the Professor said! You can’t give anyone any openings!”

“Don’t worry about it, Brodie! It’s cool.”

******

Hiro could not believe his eyes.

One moment, Broderick was standing there, admittedly naked, and then in the span of about 15 seconds, he was suddenly this huge… muscled… blonde… stag… thing! He knew it was 15 seconds due to the timer on the bottom of his phone indicating how long he had been recording for.

What they hell is going on…?

Then Broderick began talking to himself.

“Bro, this ain’t gonna even be a challenge. Let’s give him a fighting chance”

His voice was so much deeper. His mannerisms were more confident, cocky and reminded Hiro of those annoying fratboys that held their parties at the top floors of the malls. There was even that slightly slurred inflections that made him feel like he was losing IQ points just listening to them!

“Don’t worry about it, Brodie! It’s cool.”

Brodie…? As in Broderick…? Is… Is that even my roommate?

Another loud moan brought his attention to Butch who was still struggling with his pants. He shifted his phone towards the pink-haired punk who was scratching tugging at his pants. His right arm was trying to keep it on while the other desperately trying to tear them off. The bizarre scene only added to the theory that there were two people in there.

Butch suddenly let out a deep, rumbling cry. A huge, pink dick came shooting out of his pants, tearing the fabric and sending shards of pre-cum soaked underwear flying in front of him like shrapnel. The huge, pulsating member was still a bright pink much like Broderick’s but it was still distinctly human in shape. Butch seemed to give up at that point and threw the arm he was controlling back. His mutated, two-foot long dick shoved straight into his mouth and instantly began pumping his seed straight into his throat. Hiro could actually see some of the cum dripping down the punk’s chin.

That’s sick!

Then, just like Broderick, Butch’s body began to shake and the punk threw his head back, letting out a triumphant cry. The bully’s body burst in shape and size. Though the belly remained, the man quickly put on about two inches of height and muscle piled on beneath the rolls of fat. The jacket he wore tightened around his frame, stretching back as a pair of solid pectorals crested the pronounced belly. His shirt ripped right down the middle to reveal dense, brown fur. His fingers twitched and crackled. His ring and pinkie merged into one as did his middle and index. Just as Broderick’s feet became cloven, his hands warped to only have three digits, each capped with a sharp, black tip.

A loud snort left Butch’s throat as his features twisted and shot forward. Two tusks pushed out from his lower lip, curling upwards just past his pig-like snout. The same dark, course fur spread all over his body and seemed to try and take over his pink hair but just could not be rid of the dye. His huge hands tore at his pants, removing them completely from his body as his thighs grew immense and muscled to support his tremendous weight. The huge pig-man stood up on his cloved feet, let out a half-squeal, half-roar as his curly tail sprang from the base of his spine.

Across from him, Broderick just let out a snort and his own fluffy, leaf-shaped tail wagged back and forth.

“Fuckin’ finally, bro,” the stag drawled. “I could’ve fucked you five times by the time you finished!”

“Shut up!” roared Butch. He reached over his shoulder and tore off his jacket and the remnants of his shirt. There was a wild array of thick hairs down his back like a mane. “Now we fight!” The boar suddenly went down on all fours and the hairs on his back suddenly went on edge.

Those hairs sprang from his back like bullets, shooting straight towards Broderick. The stag quickly crouched and then launched into the air. Hiro’s jaw dropped as the huge beast that surely would’ve weighed a tonne of pure muscle rocketed five storeys into the sky!

That’s impossible!

Loud metallic clinking met his ears and he realised that those bullet-like hairs were shooting straight at him. He quickly ducked behind the sedan. His heart stopped for the briefest of moments when a huge, brown spike erupted from the door just an inch from his left ear. It had to be as long as his hand and as sharp as any blade. A cursory tap against it and he realised it was as hard as steel.

Shit… I’ve got to get out of here!

He scrambled out from behind the sedan –

Boom!

The ground quaked with the impact of Broderick crashing back to the ground. Hiro was knocked off his feet as the very asphalt beneath his feet heaved from the impact. Dust blew over him and he quickly covered his head. Peering between his arms he could see the mighty stag standing in a small crater with his foot on the boar’s back.

“Dude, that was too fucking easy!” Broderick laughed. “You wanna go for round two or should I just fuck you here and now?”

“Fuck you!” Butch roared.

“You wish.” Broderick shrugged and easily moved behind the boar, his cock already at full mast. “Well, can’t say it was fun, bro, but I know I’m going to enjoy this part.”

The dust blew into Hiro’s throat and he couldn’t help but cough. Broderick’s eyes lifted and from across the asphalt, their eyes met.

“Oh shit…” Hiro muttered. Panic quickly shot through his system and he leapt to his feet.

“Hiro! Hang on, bro!” Broderick shouted.

But he didn’t listen. He was not going to be caught by these freaks! He immediately turned around and bolted.

“Wait!”

“Get away from me!” Hiro shouted, pumping his legs as far and as fast as they would take them. He glanced over his shoulder. Broderick, despite all his size, had managed to cross the distance between them in less than a second! The stag was just a few inches away from him!

“But you’re going to hit –”

WHAM!

Stars flashed in Hiro’s gaze and he staggered back, utterly dazed.

Where’d the wall come from…?

He blinked a few times but could only see the parking lot in front of him. No wall. When he reached out, however, he felt a vertical barrier right in front of him. His fingers pressed against its cold surface.

“What the…?”

“You’re in our Battleground,” Broderick explained from short distance away. Hiro immediately turned around and felt his gut sink down to his feet. The titanic stag in towered over him. Sure he had seen people taller than him but this… monster was unreal!

“Until our battle is done, the barrier will stay up,” explained the stag. “You can’t leave.”

“S – So I’m trapped in here!?” he demanded. His eyes went down to Broderick’s throbbing dick. “Fuck! Are you going to rape me!?”

The stag looked shocked and then threw his head back and laughed. “Naw, dude!” He hiked a thumb over his shoulder. “I just gotta fuck that asshole back there and then we’ll be done.”

“What are you!?” Hiro demanded. “What’s going on!?”

Broderick sighed softly and placed his hands on his hips. “Hey Brodie, you wanna field this one?” He closed his eyes and then a moment later, he opened them again. His eyes were back to being brown.

“Hiro,” he said. Though his tone was different, calmer, more timid like the one that Hiro was used to, his voice was still that deep rumble. “I don’t know how you got involved in this or how you got caught in our Conflict but here’s the thing.” He pressed a hand against his chest. “I’m a Manifesto. Buck is my Psyche.”

Those terms only served to confuse him but considering how he was cornered, Hiro could only feign interest or as he looked for a way to escape. “Your… Psyche…?”

“Yeah.” Broderick reached out with one of his hands but when Hiro flinched, he pulled back. Instead, he placed that hand once against his chest. “Basically I’m a human whose… well… I guess you could say I suffer from multiple personality disorder.”

“More like multiple body disorder!” Hiro exclaimed. “Y – You’re…”

“Yeah, I know. It’s complicated. Where to start…” He began tapping his chin with a finger. That was definitely Broderick in there. “It’s like this, you know how Professor Weed said that the world basically revolved around conflict?”

He remembered that lecture and nodded shakily.

“Every time someone fights or conflict ensues, there is an ethereal form of energy that is generated. It’s subtle to most people but in great amounts, it causes disruptions in space and time. It gives… form to things that should otherwise remain incorporeal. We Manifestos and Psyches generate a whole lot more of this energy because we’re basically two guys living inside the one body. When we clash with another of our kind, that energy sort of explodes and creates the Battleground.”

Broderick must have seen how Hiro was looking at him and sighed.

“Look, Professor Weed would be in a better position to explain. But the thing is, because Butch and I got into a fight, the energies generated from our hostility towards one another generated a field that we call the Battleground.” He spread his arms, gesturing at the space around them. “Think of this place like a little pocket dimension outside of the real world. It’s like we took an exact copy of the place where the battle took place so that we don’t really impact the world around us and leave no trace of our fights because… well…” He grinned sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. “As you can see, things get pretty crazy.”

“Right…” Hiro murmured softly. “And you’re stag-thing because…?”

Suddenly, Broderick’s eyes shifted into the bright blue again. “Because we sucked Weed’s cock, that’s why!”

“What!?” Hiro caught movement behind Broderick.

It was Butch.

And he was charging.

His eyes went back to brown and Broderick growled. “Buck! Come on!” He sighed and shrugged towards Hiro. “There is really only one way to become a Manifesto and that’s by experiencing some trauma that –”

He didn’t let Broderick finish. “Look out!”

Hiro immediately stepped forward, trusting instincts completely and pushed the stag aside. He stepped in the way of Butch, the huge boar’s lips peeling back in to let loose that loud, roar-squeal of his. Broderick toppled to the ground and Hiro made to leap aside at the last second but Butch was surprisingly fast despite his porcine frame.

A hot, wet, thick throbbing stick of flesh suddenly shoved itself into Hiro’s mouth, stretching his jaw wide as Butch came rushing forward, gripping his dick like it was a spear and charging with it cock-first. His eyes boggled when he saw Butch’s balls press up against the boar’s groin. He could almost see the gush of semen as it came rocketing up that two-foot long pole.

Fuck me…

Molten seed came rocketing down his throat, hitting the roof of his mouth with the force of a fire hydrant. He gagged, letting out a blast of seed from the few gaps that Butch’s cock allowed. But most of it flooded down his throat and he found himself unable to breathe! The only option was to swallow and though his mind screamed against it, he had no choice but to ingest the slime.

“Fuck!” Butch cried and pulled away but not before another shot blasted Hiro in the face.

“Dude! What the fuck is wrong with you!?” Broderick – or was it Buck – roared and shoved Butch back.

“I was going for you!” protested the Buck.

“So you were going to shove your dick in me while my back was turned while I was talking to a civilian!? I waited for you to fully turn! I could’ve fucked you five times over while I waited!” The angered stag gestured at Hiro. “Now he might turn into a Malformed!”

Hiro was barely listening. The semen had a strange effect on him. The world suddenly seemed very hazy and the strength left his body. He dropped to his knees. His vision blurred. All his body heat seemed to coalesce towards his gut where the cum had settled, drawing all the warmth from his extremities and leaving him feeling cold and oddly empty. Everything felt distant like he was looking through the eyes of someone else.

“Holy shit… I’m awake!”

Wait… Who said that? Why does that sound like me?

He looked towards his hands, twisting them over while blinding rapidly. But… he didn’t move. He didn’t feel like he could move. His entire body felt numb. Yet somehow… he was moving… and talking.

“Uh Hiro…?” Buck said cautiously. “Are… are you okay bro?”

He grinned… except… it wasn’t him that was grinning. Someone else was controlling his body!

“Fuck yeah! I’m awake! I’m finally fucking awake! I’m in control!”

Whoever was controlling his body brought them up to a standing position and took a deep breath. Hiro could feel that. He could actually feel pressure building in his groin and his heart racing. The sensations were there but they felt… muted, distant. Like he was being told that was how he should feel but not really experiencing them.

Buck reached forward and gripped his shoulder. The stag’s grip was strong. “Hiro. Liston to me, bud. You’ve got to calm down.”

The body-snatcher knocked Buck’s hand back, grinning broadly. “I ain’t Hiro, Bucky-boy!”

“Uh… Then who are you…?”

That grin grew broader and dread filled Hiro. “I am that cold son-of-a-bitch’s hidden desires. I am his repressed memories, emotions and wild side. I’m everything he wishes he could be but was too fucking busy ‘building a career’ and growing grey hairs to be! I… am…”

Suddenly all the pressure in his groin came out like a tremendous geyser. Hiro screamed as his cock came shooting out of his pants, ripping the fabric apart. The enormous, big, red dick came shooting towards his mouth and the creature controlling him eagerly gobbled up the pulsating point. There was no build up, no foreplay. Cum just came bursting out of his balls and rocketing up the huge member and down his throat.

Fire erupted all throughout Hiro’s body and this time, he could feel it. The cold distant shell that wrapped him pulled him towards its edges like he was wearing a full-body suit too big for his frame only for the suit to start pulling him from all directions to fill it. It felt… it felt…

Good! This feels so good!

The never felt more powerful. Every muscle in his body was afire, every bone like bursting with strength and every nerve crackling with energy. He just had to let it all out or he would explore! His eyes went immediately to his hands, bringing his feet into view as he looked down. A loud, deep growl rose from his throat as all the energies that pulsated through his body came rushing through his entire frame and rocketed down to the tips of his fingers. Black claws erupted from his fingertips, each one as thick as his finger itself and growing bigger with each passing second. Each emergence was like a mini-orgasm that send pleasurable quakes all over his body.

His fingers had to rapidly compensate for the growing claws. The digits grew broader, twitching back and forth like he was rapidly playing the piano. With each keystroke, his hands became bigger, broader and with thick veins coursing across their backs. The creamy blonde hairs that were nearly invisible on his skin stood on end and quickly thickened. They multiplied rapidly, spreading madly all over his flesh. He flipped his hand around. Big, black, leathery pads sprang up at the tips of his fingers and formed a crescent-like shape at the base of his knuckles and the heels of his palms. Shorter, white fur closed the gaps between them.

“Yes!” he cried. “This is it!”

He lifted both his newly transformed hands and immediately flexed his arms. The rush of power that erupted from his mutated limbs shot towards his chest. The muscles that he tensed immediately surged with strength. Bones violently stretched and muscles quivered like they were made of liquid beneath his flesh, growing broader and bigger rapidly.

Wait! My jacket!

His favourite jacket. He couldn’t let that get shredded like Butch had torn through his clothes.

“Fuck! Forget about the stupid jacket!” he growled. “It’s not important! What is important is this feeling! This fucking awesome feeling!”

He almost fell for it. He almost succumbed to the rush of power and desire for freedom. That first burst of freedom when his hands transformed; it was euphoric, addictive. But that wasn’t him. No, he wasn’t that weak.

“Weak! I’m not weak!”

Then Hiro came to a realisation. Something that Broderick and Buck had been trying to tell him.

You are not me!

He knew he couldn’t stop this change but he could control it. Wresting control of his body from this… beast, he immediately grabbed his black, leather jacket and threw it off. It took a monumental effort just for that one act and even before the garment fell to the ground, the monster had taken back control from his moment of weakness.

“Stupid fuck!” growled the creature. “I’ll make you pay for that!” He threw their head back and let out a roar.

Hiro was knocked back away from the surface, from their shared body. That cold feeling surrounded him again and everything felt distant once more. He was only partially aware of the creature’s form tearing his body to shreds, forging it into a representation of himself. His arms gave way to huge, muscled machines covered in soft blonde and white fur. Even though they shared the same eyes, he was seeing everything the beast was seeing through a blurred lens. A cold, black ocean surrounded him and with each passing second, he was drowning, falling deeper into it and further away from the surface.

Then there was a burst of light.

Wait… He’s losing control!

The beast was succumbing to the euphoric stimulus of the transformation. It was like his entire body was undergoing a full-body orgasm, after all. This primal creature was untamed, undisciplined. That was Hiro’s chance. He could feel the creature’s control over their body loosening as their spine lengthened. Each little crack of his back growing brought him closer and closer to the surface. He found the strength to start swimming upwards, closer towards the light above.

The creature’s shoulder’s broadened, ripping their shirt to sunders. There was a moment when the cold night air brushed against their sweat-covered body before it was vanquished by onset of a forest of white and blonde fur. The singlet he wore tore right down the middle, the straps snapping as his shoulders tore them apart and his chest ballooned out into two, huge mountains with his nipples as black peaks jutting out of a golden blonde seat.

Hiro was almost to the surface and he –

“No you don’t!”

… was suddenly plunged deeper, gasping for breath as a powerful, clawed paw pushed him back. He screamed in frustration even as the beast’s abdominals burst into existence, a massive eight-pack that formed an indominable wall against his torso.

The beast rose to its full nine and a half feet height, his huge, clawed feet and immense legs spread wide to accommodate for the massive, red canine prick standing at full attention between his legs. A long, fluffy tail stood at the ready and stiff behind him, ready for battle. His lips peeled back, revealing sharpened fangs befitting the strong, proud lupine features with bright red eyes.

Buck, who now stood about a foot shorter than him, backed away. “Uh… H – H – Hiro…?”

“I told you, Bucky-boy,” growled the lupine monster. “I’m not Hiro.”

From within, Hiro screamed but his voice was drowned in the dark ocean.

“I am Howl.”

*******

“Uh… Okay Howl…” Buck said cautiously. “I’m glad you didn’t turn into a Malformed but we need to talk.”

Buck, this is bad, Broderick warned. He’s a newly emerged Psyche. He hasn’t been tempered! He hasn’t gone through the training! We don’t even know if he’s fully absorbed Hiro or if Hiro’s even still alive in there! We need to get Professor Weed!

Buck agreed mentally but didn’t say anything outwardly. This was a very delicate situation. “Listen, there are rules and regulations about this sort of thing. We’ve got to get you back to Professor Weed. He can help.”

“Fine,” Howl said, grinning wolfishly at him. He lifted an arm, flexing it playfully. Buck lifted an eyebrow. That was a very big muscle. “This feels so fucking awesome. I can’t tell you how long I’ve been waiting to get out. Every fucking day he just kept repressing more and more shit. He was turning himself into a fucking robot and anything that’s even remotely human, he tosses into this ‘basement’ of his. Fuck! I can’t wait to fucking try everything he’s been so scared to do!”

He grinned brightly in a friendly matter towards Buck. “You know he’s never had sushi? And his name is Hiro.” Then he turned to Butch. “But first, to business.”

Butch took a step back, holding up his hands. “Whoa there, guy. I don’t want no trouble!”

Howl smirked at him. “Are you Butch or Bouncer?”

“Butch…”

“Right. Well the way I see it because I was listening and Hiro was just trying to escape, the only way out of this mess is if the battle ends, right? Well, the battle is between you and my man Buck here. So…” He cracked his knuckles ominously. “I’m going to beat you up now. Okay? Thanks.”

Butch took another step back. “Whoa! Hey! Why can’t you beat up the stag!?”

“Because I’m going to fuck him later.” Howl glanced over to Buck with a sly wink. “And yeah, Hiro is gay. Tried to bury himself in his work to ignore the raging hormones in him but he’s totally gay.”

The golden wolf grinned broadly. “Oh yeah you are, buddy,” Howl said, tapping his temple with a smirk. “I’m your subconscious self, remember? I know you better than you know yourself.”

Buck suddenly placed himself between Howl and Butch. “Wait! You don’t have to beat up Butch to get this to end.”

“Oh yeah?” Howl cocked his head to one side, predominantly as a sign of canine curiosity but also because he got a good look at the hulking, living pork chop that was right behind the slab of meaty venison. “Tell me there’s a more fun way of doing it.”

“There’s a lot of Manifestos, bro,” said Buck. “But there would be a lot less of us if we killed each other when we fought. When a battle like this begins, we let our Psyches take over. The battle ends when we get the other guy to turn back into their human form.”

Howl frowned. “That’s no fun. Though I would love to see this piggy piss his pants I’m not into that sort of thing. Something both Hiro and I can agree on.”

Good, Broderick said with a mental sigh. They have common grounds. And Hiro is still in there so he hasn’t been completely assimilated.

“Sexual pleasure, bro,” said Buck, holding up his hands. “You notice we’re all really hard?”

Howl glanced at his throbbing bright red dick and then over to Butch whose cock was also still very hard despite having just ejaculated a moment later. “Huh… Yeah. Should we see a doctor about that?”

“Maybe. I dunno. Thing is, sexual release causes a sort of window for one half to slip through. From this day on, you’ll be constantly holding onto your form. But when you fuck and fuck good, you sort of let yourself go a little. I mean, sex is awesome, right?”

“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t had it. Neither has Hiro.” Howl leaned forward with a smirk pretending to cover his muzzle like what he was about to say was a secret. “He’s still a virgin you know. A twenty-year-old virgin.”

“Uh… Okay. Well, battles end when you just get the other guy off enough that they lose their grip on their form and they turn back into a human. So let’s be civil about this and just stand in a circle and jack –”

The one and a half-tonne wolf of bulging, vascular muscle shoved past him. “Fuck that!” Howl licked his lips. “Well little piggy, you gave me a taste of your dick earlier. Now I want the main course!”

“Howl! No!”

But the wolf was not listening. The newly emerged Psyche immediately pounced on Butch, knocking the boar down and immediately wrapping his enormous jaws around the big, pink pole of flesh. Butch let out a squeal, this one filled completely with terror and with no ounce of a roar. That cry quickly turned into a moan.

Buck barely got a step forward before Butch’s hips bucked and his balls jostled.

“He… He surrendered.”

The boar had thrown the fight and hot cum came pouring out of his cock and right down into Howl’s throat. The wolf was a little surprised at how quick he had gotten his opponent to cum but he didn’t argue has he immediately became slurping every drop of hot, white seed as possible. Buck could do nothing but just stand back and watch.

A loud noise like stretching leather filled Battleground as Howl’s body began growing from the fresh nutrients fed to him from the defeated boar. As Butch’s squeals became more human, Howl’s body tensed and flexed. Every inch of his body simultaneously seized up like it was clenching for a bodybuilding contest but instead of relaxing and shrinking slightly, it remained large and strong, refusing to relax. He only gained about half an inch around his neck and body but it was enough as a clear sign of the wolf’s growth.

Butch’s form bubbled and emitted a sizzling heat. His flesh became so hot that the sweat that dripped from his body evaporated immediately, coming off as pillars of steam from his body. The smell that emanated from it was one of arousal and sex with a little bit of steamed pork. Butch let out a loud sigh and as the last of his cum left his inflated balls. His body shrank, losing the extra mass from having manifested his Psyche and returning to his original human shape.

Around them, the Battleground began to crumble. Like someone had taken a hammer to reality, the grey filter around them shattered like glass. They were very exposed once more.

“Oh fuck that’s good…” Howl moaned, pulling away from Butch’s still inflated dick. “Hey Bucky-boy, you sure you don’t want some? I think I left a drop or two.”

He shook Butch’s cock in his massive paw a few times but as he spoke, the member shrank; slipping from his grip and sinking back to a size befitting a human.

“Whoops. Guess not.” Howl let out a vicious grin. “Hey, think we can stir him up a little, get him hard and have round two?”

Suddenly, Butch’s eyes opened but they were the bright yellow of Bouncer. “Fuck off, asshole!” The pink-haired punk immediately got up, scrambling away from Howl. “You do and I’ll fucking gut you!”

Buck –

“I know, I know,” Buck muttered, stepping forward and immediately putting himself between Bouncer and Howl. “Cool it, bro.” He turned to Butch. “Look man, you lost this bad. You gave up. I saw it. So unless you want both of us spit roasting your fat ass between us, you better find a pair of pants and fuck off.”

Bouncer snarled at him but didn’t say anything else or put up a fight. He turned and immediately ran off, probably back to his dormitory.

Glad another battle didn’t arise, Buck turned to Howl who got up and rolled his shoulders.

Wow… For a newly emerged, he’s really big.

“I guess Hiro had a lot of repressed stuff in his subconscious to make you so big, huh?” Buck said.

Howl gave him a shrug. “Is that how it works? I dunno.” He flexed his arms. There were a few more veins there than before. “Did I get bigger? I felt like I got bigger.”

Buck sighed loudly.

“This is going to be a long night…”

*******

“So you’re telling me that the more I suck off guys, the bigger and stronger I’ll get?”

Howl was a very eager and quite more open and friendly than the growly and slightly anti-social Hiro. Back in his human form and in control of their body, Broderick guided them out of the parking lot and made a call. After he had finished, he then brought himself and Howl to the rear of the mall where there were no cameras and definitely no chance of any drunker fratboys stumbling in on them. A nine-foot blonde werewolf was very hard to hide. Especially one wearing a black, leather jacket over his shoulders. Apparently as a concession to get Hiro to shut up, Howl had retrieved the jacket and draped it over his shoulders.

“Only during battles,” Broderick replied, adjusting his glasses. “Psyches grow in strength through battles. This is because when they were first created, it was from the trauma created by conflict that birthed them in people’s minds. With every engagement they face, they generate incredible energies from the fight. Kind of like friction or… or…”

Suddenly, Buck took over. “Or like a pot in a game of poker!”

Then Broderick was in control again. “Yes… Thank you, Buck. Kind of like that. When Psyches win a battle, they absorb all that energy into themselves. And to do that you need to… erm… incapacitate someone.”

“And I’m a Psyche,” Howl stated. “And Hiro is my Manifesto.”

“Right!”

“Remind me again then why I even need him? Why can’t I just stay like this forever?”

There, Broderick found himself stuck for an answer. “Uh…”

“He got you there, dude,” snickered Buck.

Thankfully, that familiar cinnamon smoke wafted into his nostrils and Professor Weed approached with a soft chuckle.

“Because,” rumbled the very hunk psychology professor. “No matter how much a Psyche wants to remain in control, they ultimately cannot exist very long outside of a Battleground. Eventually, they will have to surrender control again to their Manifesto.”

Howl’s hackles suddenly lifted. “What? I’m going to have to – urk!”

The big, golden wolf suddenly doubled over, his eyes wide and his paws at his chest. Loud, ragged breaths left him and he let out a soft choking noise. He doubled over, clutching his stomach. The golden blonde fur on his body immediately began to shrink into his body and all the glorious muscles that Buck adored and made Broderick blush shrank back into his form.

A moment later, Hiro was left panting in nothing but his jacket.

Professor Weed strode over to the young man, shifting the cigarette from one side of his mouth to the other. “Huh… I take it he has a lot bottled up inside then?”

“Why…” Hiro panted. “Why do you say that…?”

Weed reached out and gripped Hiro’s thick, blonde hair. “Because we distinctly remember you having very short hair and yet here you have some rather luscious locks. Not to mention some rather sexy stubble. You’ve filled out quite well too.”

Broderick smiled ruefully to himself as Hiro looked down at his body. Where once there had been a skinny, slightly malnourished college kid now there stood a fit, young man with a strong set of abdominals defined pectorals and large arms. Not a bodybuilder or behemoth like Howl but certainly enough to be on the front cover of a fitness magazine.

“Or to do porn.”

“Shut up, Buck,” Broderick snickered.

“What happened to me!?” Hiro cried.

Weed straightened and tossed a pair of pants to Hiro’s feet. “How about we head to my lab and talk? I’ll explain on the way.”

Hiro hurriedly stuffed himself into the admittedly tight pants. They fit but just barely. Broderick caught Professor Weed watching the fit young man’s ass and when they locked gazes, Weed just shrugged at him, admitting that on some level, he was a voyeur… or a pervert. Broderick could never really tell the difference.

Led by the light of Weed’s cigarette, they headed around the back alleys of the campus. The parties were still going so that at least meant the students with the active night life were still busy and none were wandering through the dark canals of the college.

“For lack of a better term,” Weed said at length, “a Psyche is you. A mirror version of you. Bizarro you. Howl is everything that you aren’t.” He glanced over his shoulder with a smile at Hiro. “When Brodie called me, I pulled up your profile. Kicked out of house and home at the tender age of 14. Picked up by the RRC shortly afterwards.”

“RRC?” Broderick asked, inclining his head to the side. “What’s that?”

“Removal and Recovery Conglomerate.”

“Sounds nice.”

Hiro growled, his eyes flashing red briefly. “They’re anything but.”

Weed nodded grimly. “It’s just a fancy way of calling a New York gang, Brodie. They operate on the fridges of the mob. They pick up runaways or orphans like Hiro, train him to either be a pickpocket or a conman and feed then let them loose on society like little time bombs. Honestly, I’m surprised it took you this long to manifest your Psyche, Hiro, and that it had to be brought out through ingestion of another’s semen.”

“God…” Hiro grimaced. “So I turned into this… this thing because I drank another guy’s cum? Is my cum infectious or something?”

“Oh no.” Weed smirked. “The transformation from human to Manifesto is unique to each person. My suspicion is that it is your severely repressed homosexuality that triggered Howl’s emergence.”

“I’m not gay!”

“Well no. Not really. Howl is. But then again, he is you.”

Hiro defiantly shook his head. “I am not that monster!”

The professor turned around and spread his arms. “Hiro, Howl, you both share the same body and share an incredibly strong bond. However, there is something you should know.” Weed’s gaze grew narrow and dangerous. “Healthy, fully functioning human beings may repress things within themselves and hide parts of themselves from the outside world but these little bits come out as little vices here and there. Maybe the middle-aged man working an accounting job he hates has a mistress on the side. Maybe the bullied, bespectacled geek who suffers constant abuse from his father escapes into a realm of fantasy online. Maybe the super nice guy that everyone likes is into some really kinky shit and gets off while watching that stuff online.”

“What’s your point?” snapped Hiro.

“My point is that we all need our releases. It’s healthy. It’s normal. But we weren’t like that. We repressed these things too long. We never let ourselves go. Then, we suffered from some sort of trauma that awakened the beast within.” He pulled the cigarette from his lips and let out a small puff of smoke. “For me, it was like everything I was repressing was being poured into an enormous dam. Then, when that one piece of trauma came out, someone took a big fucking hammer to the dam and blew it all up. Out came Primal, my Psyche.”

The Professor levelled his gaze back at Hiro. “You are going to come into conflict with Howl. You’re two sides of the same coin now. That conflict with sustain both of your existences. It is a very real possibility that one or the other could become so dominant that the other half completely vanishes. In fact, most psychopaths and serial killers can be attributed to a Psyche completely absorbing their Manifesto.”

Hiro’s eyes widened in terror. “Wh – What!? I thought I just had multiple personality disorder now! You’re telling me I’ve become a total pyscho?”

Weed laughed softly and beckoned them to follow as he continued his walk. “No. There are three scenarios for you now, Mr. West. The first and most preferable is that you and Howl learn to coexist with one another. Yes, you’ll have to share the same body like a pair of dysfunctional roommates but ultimately it will lead to a rich fulfilling life. You will learn more about yourself through Howl and likewise, Howl will become more human and experience the real world in ways he could only have dreamed about. That’s the preferred option.”

“Well fuck, doc, why don’t I just start offering free hugs and start shooting rainbows out of my ass?”

Broderick snapped his gaze towards Hiro whose eyes were bright red – Howl was in control. Then, his roommate growled and ran a hand down his face.

“Damnit… Sorry…” Hiro muttered, his eyes back to being blue. “The bastard is trying to get control again…”

“And that’s the second option,” Professor Weed said as they approached the back door to his laboratory. “Howl takes full control. He will absorb your personality. He will learn much about how it will be like to be human but it will be through the eyes of an unfiltered, unbridled being of repressed emotions. In all likelihood, you’ll become a serial rapist, serial killer or… well… serial something.”

“That sounds like fun!” Howl cried, once again taking control. “Sign me up!”

“But you will lose the ability to manifest in your true shape,” Weed said, stopping in front of the door. “Further, I will be compelled to destroy you.”

Howl grinned. “You can try doc, you can try.”

The psychology professor glanced over. “Broderick. If you would?”

Broderick nodded and drew a circle in the air with his finger. Where his finger traced, green light followed and lingered. When he completed the circle, arcane runes and lights snaked out of the circle. Howl gawked at the display in awe.

WHAM!

Then he was hurled against the nearby brick wall, suspended there by some invisible force.

“Something else we get,” Weed said, halfway through his cigarette now. “Magic.”

“What the fuck!?” Howl cried. “Magic ain’t real!”

“Oh I assure you, it is. Broderick or Buck must’ve told you about the Battlegrounds, yes?”

Howl could only nod.

“Good. We draw energy from conflict. The more we fight, the stronger we get. I heard that Broderick was explaining the mechanics of engagements. Good. Because someone thought they were being clever, we started measuring the energy generated from Battleground fights in Encounter Exchange Points.”

“You call it… ‘EEP’?” Howl snarled.

“Actually, they decided to use the ‘X’ in ‘Exchange’ instead.”

Howl’s features dropped and he gave Weed an exasperated look. “So… EXP? Your unit of measurement for how much energy is generated in a fight and then absorbed by a Psyche to stimulate their growth is measured in… EXP?”

“Yes,” Weed answered with a straight face. “Videogame references aside, the more EXP we gain, the stronger we become. Not only the Manifesto but the Psyche as well. If you fully take over, Howl, you will never be able to engage in a battle again and you won’t gain EXP. Further, EXP is generated through fights all over the world and in doing so, we learn how to manipulate it. We can stimulate it into doing things that would seem like ‘magic’ to others. Case in point…” He gestured towards Broderick and gave him a nod.

Broderick released the spell and Howl dropped back to the ground.

“We can teach you how to use magic and EXP in this way,” Weed continued. “But only if you and Hiro maintain an equilibrium between you two.”

“It’s me again,” Hiro coughed. “Dumb bastard ran off with his tail between his legs…”

Howl came back with a growl. “No I didn’t, you fucking fag!”

“I’m not gay!” Hiro lifted his gaze back towards Professor Weed. “What’s the third option? If Howl can fully take over, can’t I?”

There, Weed sighed and nodded. “Yes. Obviously, there are medical procedures to subdue a Psyche. In centuries past, the fad was a lobotomy. Psyches and Manifestos reside somewhere deep within the subconscious when not fully active. Damage to the brain in such a way will cause both to effectively… meld together with the Manifesto somewhat dominant. Modern times though has medication available for psychosis. This subdues the Psyche and allows the Manifesto to remain in control for as long as the medication lasts.”

“Great!” Hiro cried, spreading his arms. “Let’s do that!”

His eyes turned red. “Oh hell no! I am not going back in that fucking basement!”

“This is my body!” Hiro argued, slamming a fist against his chest. “You didn’t grow up with it! You didn’t experience what I did!”

“The fuck I did! I’ve been there by your side this whole fucking time! I’m the part of you that you won’t admit exists! I was there when Dad kicked us out of the house! I was there when Oliver picked us up and brought us into the RRC! I was there when he brought us some extra food while we were training! I’m the part of you that cried when Oliver went missing and everyone just pretended he never existed!”

Hiro shook his head furiously. “I did not cry!”

“Yes you did!” Howl was jabbing at the air with a finger like Hiro was right in front of him. “You just shoved all that back and tried to be the good little soldier you thought you had to be! But you cried, Hiro, you cried.”

“Shut up!” Hiro gripped the sides of his head with his hands, shaking it furiously. “Professor… please…” he begged. “I need those meds…”

Weed glanced towards Broderick who gave him a resigned sigh. “Something you should know, Hiro, Howl. The medication is under the control of a group called Armistice. They are dedicated to eliminating and subduing all Manifestos and Psyches. Many doctors and psychiatrists work with them or are part of the group. They don’t put in the effort to bring a person to a health conclusion between Manifesto and Psyche and just shove drugs down their throat because one or the other is inconvenient to societal norms. As a trained psychologist, it is my advice that you work out your problems with Howl, not merely repress them.”

Hiro gnashed his teeth together furiously. “But I don’t want him out…”

Weed’s cigarette was done and he flicked the exhausted butt aside. “Hiro… May I speak with Howl for a moment?”

“He might run off…”

“He won’t. Trust me. Besides, Broderick can just cast a spell and pin him against the wall again.”

Hiro sighed and slumped his shoulder. A moment later, his eyes turned bright crimson and Howl was back.

“Damn stubborn asshole,” he grumbled. “I can’t believe he won’t admit what he knows is true.”

“Perhaps because you are being too forceful,” Weed suggested. “Just like how Armistice would force you back into that basement, you are being too brash and trying to muscle your way out. Neither outcome is good for both you and Hiro.”

“Then let me take over! I’m the only one that’s real here! He’s a fucking robot!”

“No, he’s not. And no, you’re not.” Weed stared at him gravely. “You’re both part of one another but because neither of you could exist normally, you’ve now become two separate personalities with great power and incredible potential.” He pulled out another cigarette from his breast pocket. “I’ll tell you now that it was rather impressive that you didn’t fully take over the first time you emerged, Howl. Most people who undergo the trauma of turning into a Manifesto/Psyche are completely consumed by the Psyche mere moments after transforming due to the sheer sense of freedom becoming a Psyche offers.”

Howl growled and glanced off to the side. “That’s because he was too concerned about his goddamn jacket…” His features softened. “Oliver gave it to him before he disappeared. We loved Oliver. Yeah he was five years older than us but he was like the dad we never had…”

“You can’t force these realisations upon him. Focus on your similarities. You’re both incredibly stubborn from all appearances. You’re both very brave. Work on that.”

“Sounds like you’re putting us through couples therapy.”

“That’s very much what this is. You’re two people in the same space. You have to learn to live with one another if you ever hope to coexist.”

“Why can’t I just take over or he take the meds then? Be over and done with?”

Howl was considering the options for Hiro. That was good.

Weed glanced over to Broderick with a sheepish smile. “Well, honestly because of some selfish reasons on my part but I’ll explain that once we’re inside with the others. For now though, even if you promise not to go on a rampage as a serial killer, you will find yourself empty and alone because you’ve effectively killed the one person who will always be closest to you. Similarly, if Hiro were to just take that medication, he would never be satisfied with his life because he knows he is constantly fighting someone that would complete him.”

It was the same spiel that Professor Weed had given Broderick when Buck had first emerged. It brought back memories of the conflict between them. Brash, outgoing Buck who had little to no restraint, loved to drink, party, workout and have sex, it didn’t matter with whom. Of course, this in direct opposition to Broderick who was meek, studious and became flustered whenever anyone got particularly close.

Buck was everything Broderick could be.

And Broderick was the foil that Buck desperately needed.

It was a symbiotic relationship that both parties are happy to go with.

“Erm… What’s symbiotic mean?” Buck asked.

Broderick allowed himself a little smile.

It means that you rely on me and I rely on you.

“Hell yeah! Does that mean I get to fuck tonight?”

Broderick’s smile faded as he turned back to Hiro.

We’ll have to see how things turn out here.

“What would you rather do, Howl?” Weed said. “Continue living on as half-a-man either as a wild, untamed beast or an emotionless shell, or be whole even if means having to compete with your other half?”

Then Broderick saw something happen that he didn’t think was possible for a newly emerged Manifesto/Psyche. Howl’s left eye turned blue, leaving his right eye red.

“I suppose we could learn to get along…”

Weed smiled and nodded firmly. “Good. You’re making more progress than I thought any newly emerged Manifesto could make. Then again, you’ve been through some tough times, haven’t you?”

Hiro’s eyes went back to their usual blue and he sighed. “Yeah, I guess. How do you know so much about me anyway?”

“I’m a trained psychologist and during your application, your criminal record was thoroughly examined.” Weed gripped the doorknob to his laboratory. “Anyway, now for the selfish reason as to why I wanted you to join us…”

He opened the door to the laboratory and took a step inside.

Weed, however, froze up instantly, his eyes wide. Anger flashed across his face.

Broderick grimaced loudly.

Oh god… they’re at it again…

“Wait, Brodie! Don’t let Hiro see –”

Before he could act, Hiro poked his head into the room beyond.

And immediately saw two, hulking brutes madly fucking on top of a large, wooden desk.

*******

“What did I tell you two about doing it on my table!?” Weed roared. His eyes flashed yellow briefly. “And my banana split!”

Hiro couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

The laboratory was not exactly a scientific laboratory and more like a large library with a few pieces of equipment here and there. If anything, it looked more like a psychologist’s office but larger. The walls were lined with books save for a few windows here and there. There was an enormous couch on the far end of the room with a sofa sitting opposite to it. Between them and the furniture were an assortment of tables with some fancy looking equipment, machines that Hiro didn’t recognise. Farthest from the door, close to the far end window was a big, wooden desk shaped like a horseshoe.

On that desk was an enormous nine-foot tall tiger, brimming with muscles. The beast, a Psyche, was on his back, his claws extended and digging into the wood beneath him. His legs were up and wrapped around the waist of an even taller but slimmer equine with his monstrous dick hilted deep into the feline. There was also what looked like melted ice cream and on the tiger’s fur, marring the thick brown chest hair that hid some of his definition. Both Psyches looked like they were caught in the headlines of a speeding eighteen-wheeler especially since they had a peeled banana between their lips with the tiger holding onto one end with his lips and the other end halfway down the equine’s throat.

“Holy hell that’s hot! I’ll never look at a banana split the same again!”

Hiro sneered. “Shut up, Howl! That’s disgusting!”

“Oh please, you think it’s hot because I think it’s hot. In fact…”

He felt a stirring in his groin and he immediately seized his crotch. “Stop it!”

“Touching it only makes it harder.”

“Hiro, Howl,” Weed sighed, pulling out another cigarette. “I’d like you to meet Timothy Thomson and Gabriel Haussler.”

Hiro jerked back in surprise. “Your lab assistant…” He then turned to Broderick. “And your friend!?”

Broderick grinned sheepishly at him. “Uh… Yeah…”

“Brodie,” Weed said, “would you mind taking care of this? I’ll take Mr. West outside and fill him in on the other details.”

Weed gently wrapped an arm around Hiro’s shoulders and pulled him back out of the laboratory.

“Awww! But I wanted to join in!”

“Howl… I swear to God…” he growled.

Weed chuckled softly as he shut the door behind him. “I know this is a shock. For both of you. But you’re going to be introduced to a big world and it’s not necessarily friendly. Everything you knew is going to be thrown out the window and into very deep water.”

Hiro found his gaze gravitating back towards the door that they had just shut. He could hear loud noises coming from beyond. Some it was some rather wet slapping noises.

“I’m sure you have questions,” Weed said, holding up a finger. “So I’ll go through the most common ones. After all, I am babysitting three Manifestos.”

The professor cleared his throat. “First you’ll notice that you’re much more fit than before. That comes from the fact that your Psyche has emerged and you’ll find that some of him will have ‘bled’ into your physical form. Be advised that he has some control over your body as well.”

“I noticed…” Hiro grumbled, gazing defiantly at his crotch.

“Right,” Weed chuckled. “But remember that Manifestos and Psyches are not common knowledge and we have enemies that will forcibly shove meds down your throat to placate you both. Keep this under wraps. That goes the same for you too, Howl. Don’t spontaneously sprout tails, grow fur or burst out of your clothes.”

“I can do that!?”

“Don’t!” Hiro snarled.

“Second, you two have got to start to master the art of ‘mental speaking’. Talking to yourself isn’t a very healthy sign even between Manifestos and their Psyches.”

Hiro recalled the battle against Butch and Bounce. They seemed really out of synch and constantly fighting one another. Buck could have easily beaten them before they had resolved their issues.

“I guess we’ll have to work together if we’re going to survive this…”

“Yeah, I suppose we should. Fine. I promise not to go busting out randomly.”

“Thank you.”

Weed smiled. “Also, now you are much stronger and faster than someone of your size and stature would seem. Tim…”

“Yeah, I was on the receiving end of one of his hugs…” mumbled Hiro. “He could’ve crushed my spine…”

“And you’re not joking. But Tim is a teddy bear. He’s very kind, polite and a gentle natured giant. His Psyche, Taser, however is the complete opposite. He is abrasive, swears a lot and rather violent. You’ll like them both, however. Taser is very loyal and he’s actually the one that pushed us to enter the Gym Season this year. Speaking of…”

Weed clapped Hiro’s shoulder. “The reason I wanted you on our side is because of what we call the Gym Season. The Manifestos and Psyches don’t really have a governing body but you can imagine that with all the hostility in the world, battles between us can erupt rather abruptly. As such, an organisation known as the Battle Circle was formed. They are the strongest Manifestos and Psyches of our age and they organised the Gyms and their Sensei.

“Every year, certain facilities across the States open up and become occupied by what we call Sensei and their team. They turn the facilities into what we call ‘Gyms’. It’s where Manifestos can go and fight one another in a controlled environment. In that way, we curb our desires to rip each other’s throats out.”

“Hey Hiro…”

“What?” he hissed back.

“Well if you’re going to snap like that, never mind.”

He sighed and ran a hand down his face. “Alright. Sorry. What did you want to say?”

“Just… Didn’t Tim mention that he, Weed and Brodie were going to go to this abandoned asylum somewhere in Maine next week?”

“That’s right…” Hiro straightened and turned to Weed. “Is that where you’re going next week? To Maine?”

Weed looked surprised and then smiled. “I take it that wasn’t something you just realised by yourself, huh?”

“Uh… No. Howl picked it up.”

“Damn straight I did!”

“That’s one of the best parts about being a Manifesto/Psyche. You’ve got a second pair of eyes experiencing everything alongside you. It’s like having a best friend always supporting you. A comrade, an ally, a lover. The more advanced of our kind can actually ‘absorb’ pain from whomever is on the surface so that the one fighting can keep on fighting. If you’re interested, Buck and Brodie can help you in that respect. They’re kind of our skill-slash-magic expert. As you can imagine Tim and Taser is our tank and damage sponge while Gabriel and his Psyche, Galahad, is our tactician and leader on the field.”

“Field… You talk like we’re going into battle.”

“The Gyms serve a secondary function to just giving Manifestos and their Psyches an outlet,” Weed said, puffing out some smoke from the corner of his lips. “The Gym Season is a competition of sorts. Teams of four… Erm… well I guess it’s technically eight given Manifestos and Psyches… Point is, a team goes to each Gym type. They face a single non-combat challenge and then a combat challenge against the Sensei. If they win, they get imbued with the powers of that Gym, making them more powerful.”

“Oooh! Let’s do that! I loved getting bigger!”

“You barely felt it!” Hiro sneered.

“Yeah but that’s because I was too busy sucking a guy off.”

“God, you’re such a letch…” Hiro glanced back to Weed. “Is that what you wanted me for? To win the Gym Season?”

“It’s more than that,” said the Professor with a fatherly smile. “Once you defeat all the Gyms in a specific year, you get to go up against the members of the Battle Circle themselves.”

“He got some grudge against them or something?”

“Hiro asks if you’ve got a grudge against them,” Hiro repeated.

Professor Weed laughed softly and shook his head. “No. You see a team needs to be registered and have a sponsor. An older trained Manifesto like myself. It’s just every mentor’s dream to have a team that can reach the Battle Circle and beat them.” He grinned sheepishly, a light blush touching his cheeks. “Just a bit of a dream of mine after entering this rather bizarre world of ours.”

“Huh… I guess.” Hiro leaned against the wall, shoving his hands into his borrowed pockets.

Weed pulled out his cigarette and did the same, sighing softly and letting out another blast of smoke. “I guess something I should tell you is that as part of our training, we freely exchange EXP.”

“So you cum into one another.”

“Yes. Not all Manifestos are homosexual but in this day and age where being gay is something you actually have to declare on forms now like being male or female, a citizen or not or even Democrat or Republican, chances are either a Manifesto or the Psyche is into guys.”

“Got that right!”

“Wait… What about women?”

“Ah. Right. Manifestos are only men. There are some female Psyches but that’s because of a deep desire within the men.”

“That’s a bit sexist.”

Weed snorted softly. “I know. Women can just be as bitch and warmongering but if you were to ask Armistice, they would tell you it’s because men have been the source of every major conflict in the world and are just more aggressive than women. Conversely, there are ‘experts’ out there that say men tend to bottle up their emotions more which leads to emerging Psyches than women.”

“So is Armistice all women then?”

“No but they are dominated by them, yes.” He placed his cigarette back into his lips. “It isn’t really sexist or anything. It just so happens that just as we are in conflict with ourselves between Manifesto and Psyche, so too is Armistice in conflict with the Battle Circle. Where one encourages our kind to fight, the other wants to supress them by any means necessary. Many Manifestos opt for their solution and return to a degree of normalcy. But honestly, why would anyone give up a chance at magic, increased muscle mass and lots and lots of hot man-on-man action?”

Hiro inched away from Weed. “Is that… is that compulsory?”

“No. But you don’t get to have the power to unleash your innermost emotions and give it physical form in the most orgasmic way possible and be surrounded by like-minded people without some degree of rampant hedonism.” Weed grinned at him brightly and a little diabolically as well. “Suffice to say that what I said about Howl ‘bleeding’ into you will be more than just your physical appearance.”

“What!? I’m going to go gay!”

“You’ve always been gay. You’ve just been repressed!”

“Like I said, you two are like roommates in a single, small, studio apartment,” Weed said. “Eventually, you’ll pick up his habits and he’ll pick up yours. It’s a good balance of the two that’ll ensure you survive.”

“Studio apartment? Dude, I’m at least a single bedroom. Two at most! I’ve got killer guns!”

Hiro rubbed his temples in frustration. “Look… I get that you want to win this gym thing and I appreciate you helping me but what’s stopping me from going to Armistice? Everything you’ve said just sounds like propaganda from your side. Why shouldn’t I get their perspective?”

“You’re going to kill me off!? I am not going back to that basement!”

Hiro fought to keep Howl back and stared at Weed, expecting an answer.

The Professor sighed softly, his mirth fading. “There’s nothing I can do that will convince you to stay, Hiro. You’re free to go to Armistice if you want. I can only give you warnings based on my experience. But let me ask you one thing first.”

“Sure.”

“Do you hate Howl so much that you would see him locked up forever?”

Hiro opened his mouth to give the instantaneous reply but… He then quickly recalled how Howl had pointed out the connection between Broderick’s trip up to Maine and the Gym Season. The moment when they had almost become fully one was also rather elating and it did feel good to be at least a little free… The increased build was also alright. Not to mention Howl had gone back for his jacket…

“No. I suppose not.”

“For what it’s worth, I don’t want to absorb you either.”

“Thanks, Howl.”

“I don’t want any part of your stuck-up ass in me.”

Hiro rolled his eyes at the insult. Ordinarily, he would have felt hurt but something told him that Howl was just masking his true feelings behind the jab.

Maybe we are learning a little something from one another, he thought.

“What’s that supposed to me!?”

“Huh? You heard that?”

Weed gave him a curious look. “Pardon?”

Hiro held up a finger and glanced off to the side. “Howl?”

“Yeah I heard it. How could I not?”

He furrowed his brow.

So can you hear me now?

“Duh.”

He let out a soft chortle. “Well Professor, it seems I just got used to the whole mind-speaking thing. Or at least I tried it out.”

Weed looked surprised, the cigarette dropping slightly in his mouth. “Huh… It took Brodie a few weeks to get that far. Huh… You’re a very interesting kid, Hiro.” Then he beamed bright. “I’m sure this’ll be a very interesting experience for you.”

Hiro smiled back. “Yeah… I guess it will be.”

******

After his students left – after they cleaned up the mess they had made on his desk – Pythagoras Weed sat down on his big, comfortably leather chair still stinking slightly of all the cum that had been produced by the threesome that had been undertaken. It was a surprise his desk had remained standing after having three Psyches pounding each other on it for so long. That was the thing about Psyches. They were the collated parts of the Manifesto that they would never dare act upon in public. When they got together, the first thing that would come to mind was to fight or to fuck.

Most of the time it always ended in fucking one way or another.

Weed sighed softly, leaning back in his chair and setting his feet up on his desk. He once again had a cigarette in his mouth if only to drown out the smell.

“Do you think we should call him?” Primal, his Psyche, asked.

He sighed softly. “I just want to have a moment of peace and quiet before I do.”

“The longer we wait, the more pissed he’ll be.”

He groaned softly and sat back up. “Yeah, I suppose.”

The psychology professor picked up the phone and quickly dialled the number. It only rang twice.

“This had better be go,” came the gruff, gravelly answer from the other side. By the background noises, there was some ‘fun’ happening.

God… He hates it when he’s interrupted during an orgy.

“I finally managed to assemble a team!” Weed exclaimed cheerily. He tried to keep his hand from shaking.

“And just two days before registration ended. You’re cutting a fine line, Weed. You know Pot, Hemp, Roach, Hash, Joint and Dope have all gotten their teams registered, right?”

“I still can’t believe you got us all to agree to having names based on cannabis…” he muttered softly. “And yes, I’m aware the others have their teams ready. But I thought you should know…”

“Historically speaking, Weed, your team isn’t that good. Your spellcaster is mediocre at best, your tank wouldn’t hurt a fly and your tactician is too concerned about the wellbeing of his teammates that all his plays put them out of danger but achieve nothing. Your fourth member had better bring up the slack.”

Weed gulped loudly. “Here’s hoping…”

There was a loud sigh from the other side of the line. “Joy. He’s newly emerged, isn’t he?”

He took a deep breath, glad that the cigarette smoke offered some way to calm him. Primal soothed him from the inside, giving him strength.

“Yes… Yes he is.”

There was a pause on the other side.

“Well, I suppose there’s no better way to train a newbie. What’s his name?”

“Hiro West. He became a Manifesto tonight. He’s joined my team.”

He shut his eyes, waiting for the backlash. When nothing came, he opened his eyes slowly.

“Uh… You there?”

“Yes. Huh… So Hiro finally made something of himself. Left on his own after 14 years and then picked up by the RRC. Even after his best friend and mentor went ‘missing’, he didn’t emerge. What finally got him to crack?”

“He got caught in Battleground between Brodie and another Manifesto. He knocked Brodie away from being sniped by the guy and took the full blast of cock down his throat. That’s what got him to emerge.”

“So you’re telling me he emerged because his sucked dick?”

“Uh… Yeah.”

There was riotous laughter on the other side that lasted for a whole minute. When others began laughing, he could almost hear his boss throwing his ‘guests’ a fiery look which immediately silenced them.

“Well shit! I should’ve fucked him myself all those years ago!”

Weed’s throat went dry.

“Alright, Weed. I look forward to seeing how things turn out. I’ll be watching you at Maine next week. Make sure you get him registered.”

“Yes, sir.”

Mr. West hung up and Weed was left looking at his phone with his hand shaking.

“He’s a total ass,” Primal growled.

“Yeah… Yeah he is,” Weed sighed, setting down the phone.

“You know we can’t let Hiro know about this right?”

“I know. Not like the others know either.”

“Yeah. But we also can’t let him fall back into that bastard’s hands.”

There, Weed’s eyes narrowed and his right eye became bright yellow.

“I know.”