"Remind me again why I'm here, Hank."

Fang leant against the wall, his costume swapped out for a pair of loose jeans and a long sweater to cover his upper half. The cold, sterile room in the underground rooms of Top Dog's HQ were claustrophobic and barely had enough space to move around in, but Fang had been requested here for a reason-- though he hadn't yet been told why. Across the room, the Rottweiler who so many loathed or disliked was already in a hospital gown, sitting on the edge of an operating table as Frey darted around the room, his ringed tail flicking behind him as he gathered up various scientific and medical equipment.

"I don't wholly trust Frey..." Hank began, trailing his eyes over the darting raccoon. "And whilst I don't wholly trust you either, I at least trust you more than him. He's going to be poking around inside my head, so I want you to keep an eye on him."

"Shouldn't you be out looking for Joey rather than doing this?" Fang suggested. The thought of Joey was on everyone's minds-- the young rodent was still missing, and his family was in hysterics. It had already been a couple of months with no word and no sign of him, and Top Dog had long since speculated that he was out of the city already. He had his 'feelers' out, but they were coming up empty.

"We should," Top Dog sighed through his nose. "But this is important too."

"Okay... and how long is this going to take?" Fang questioned, folding his arms.

"Probably a couple of hours," Hank guessed. "Maybe less, depending on how fast he works."

"Yes, yes, I will go as fast as I can-- though I don't think you want me trying to poke your brain matter at the speed of light, hm?" Frey remarked from the other side of the room.

"Right, right..." Hank glanced away from him and sighed, scooting backwards and turning himself on the bed so that he laid down completely, adjusting the gown appropriately to make sure he was covered.

"I'll be under anaesthetic, so don't try any funny business," Hank turned his gaze to Fang as he spoke. "I do have contingencies, after all."

"I'm surprised you think so highly of me," Fang dryly remarked, his days in prison making his humour and personality not quite as bubbly as it usually is. "Let's just get this done. I have a date tonight."

"Anyone I should know about?" Hank smirked as he asked, and Fang scoffed quietly.

"Just me and Javier. I'm taking him to dinner." The deer loosely explained.

"Cute." Hank murmured quietly, and Frey eventually seemed to get into position, wheeling a metal cage across the room with several thick cylindrical canisters therein. He pulled a tube out of the cage, which was connected to the nozzle of one of the canisters, and reached for a face mask which was laying on a nearby table. Hank didn't say anything as Frey moved around and got everything into position, before covering the canine's face with the mask.

"Ready?" Frey asked, patiently waiting for once in his life for Hank to give him the go head. As the Rottweiler nodded, Frey began performing the necessary procedures to put him under. Fang wasn't that versed in medical procedures, but it looks fairly professional to him. In a matter of moments, Top Dog closed his eyes and his breathing steadied into a slow rhythm.

"And now we begin..." Frey muttered to himself, accompanying his remark with a slightly crazy giggle, much to Fang's worry. The deer watched as the raccoon pulled on some latex gloves, grabbing a particularly large circular disc that seemed to be electrically powered. It was a good thing that Fang had seen plenty of carnage and death, enough to not be squeamish. Were it anyone else, they might not have stomached it.

Fang was silent throughout the beginnings of the operation, as Frey effectively opened up Top Dog's skull and began to poke his way around inside. The deer could see Frey reaching for what looked to be a small chip with several wires dangling off of it and he grew curious.

"What's that?" Fang asked from the other side of the room. Frey didn't even look up to acknowledge him, but he did open his mouth to speak.

"A chip to allow for remote access, with a considerable range," Frey explained vaguely. "A request of Top Dog's design, I assure you."

"Huh...okay..." Fang trailed off, unsure where to take the conversation from there. He ultimately had no idea what any of that meant, but Top Dog clearly wanted it for a reason.

"So...Mr. Ivankov," Fang began. "If you don't mind me asking, and if it's not too distracting...how did you and Hank meet?"

"Hmm..." Frey hummed to himself as he held the chip between some rather minute tweezers. "Right after I burned down Halcyon Labs, I believe."

"Wait, what?" Fang muttered to himself, before clearing his throat and speaking a little more clearly. "How about you start a little further back? So that I understand the context."

"Hmph. Very well. I suppose the best place to start is...yes, when I got my internship."



---------- x x x ----------



"This means I have the job, yes?"

A shuddering groan escaped the lips of the shaggy-haired bear who sat in his sleek armchair, his fingers clutched earnestly around the smooth furred rump in front of him. His member was buried as deep as he could manage in the grey-furred behind and the figure atop him wiggled to and fro to make him squirm just a little bit more. 

"Mr. Ivankov, you drive a very hard bargain..." The bear muttered, and the raccoon atop him leant forwards to rest his elbows on the desk, absently reaching out the turn the plaque on his desk to read the man's name: Alfred Barnes. He was more or less the management for the lab, though not quite a CEO. Regardless, he was the bear running the recruitment process, and it had taken a lot of coaxing for Frey Ivankov to land this job.

Even at the tender age of 18, Frey was a little weird. His penchant for speaking quickly and in fragments along with his absent-mindedness when it came to sex and sexual innuendo, coupled with his attractive body and his alarming genius made him quite the oddball amongst scientists and the average person alike. He never seemed to fit in anywhere, but that suited him just fine-- if he could have his way and the funds to do so, he'd work all by himself if he could.

Even though the raccoon was a barely legal man with an astounding intelligence, landing a job had been difficult. Though he was very smart, and his papers and thesis on the interaction of metaphysical theories with quantum scale phenomena and it's application in modern-day engineering had received critical acclaim amongst the scientific community, his personality and desire to work alone had made him consequentially undesirable as a colleague and employee. Every interview he had attended had turned sour, because the interviewer couldn't understand his personality. They couldn't fathom how someone so intelligent could be so socially inept. That is, until Halcyon Labs.

An up-start company focused on pharmaceutical experimentation and the applications of said research in medicine, Halcyon Labs had landed itself a sizeable laboratory and building complex in the heart of Langris City, and though rumours of Frey's personality had circled amongst the higher-ups and competitors in the industry alike, Halcyon Labs were kind enough to allow him the chance at an interview. Frey had been banking on Halcyon Labs as his last resort before turning to other lines of work-- it turned out he had been lucky enough for his interviewer to not only be gay, but also easily to manipulate.

Frey might have appeared addled in the head, but he knew what he was doing, and he was a lot smarter than he looked when it came to social situations. He had never been interested in sex-- though he enjoyed the feel of it, he wouldn't be sad if he had to do without it completely. However, especially in the case of Halcyon Labs, it had worked to his advantage. He was smart enough to recognise his interviewer's body language, and smart enough to know whether he'd crumble and give into temptation or not. It had only been a matter of time.

He had to admit, Mr. Barnes's member was pretty good: it was bigger than average and reasonably thick. Frey had spent enough time with dildos to know what he could and couldn't take-- after all, the feeling was nice and without a job he'd had a lot of time on his hands-- and he knew that the man's member wouldn't even be a challenge. There was something delightfully different about an actually throbbing, twitching cock compared to the rigid firmness of a silicone dildo, however.

"Your-- nnf...-- your resumé checks out and your thesis and papers are astounding, as is..." The bear trailed off for a moment as he slightly kneaded his hips upward, pushing against the raccoon's behind. "I think we can find you a suitable position within our company."

"Yes, yes. And my own lab? Can I have one?" Frey slurred in vaguely slavic speech, pushing his hips down a little more to try and coax the possibility out of his new boss. Frey had grown up in the cold of Russia, but moved to the states when he was 16 to attend college for a degree, finding accommodation with some amicable people and using student loans to keep himself afloat. He had finished what was meant to be a 4 year course in a matter of two years, which is how he was already prepared to seek work at such a young age.

"Your own lab? Well, you'd only be on as an intern until we can be satisfied with your performance. Prove yourself useful-- Oh fuck-- and we might be able to do that for you." The bear managed to speak through his grunts, his breathing low and heavy. He hadn't orgasmed yet, of that Frey was certain, but the raccoon knew he was getting there.

"Yes, yes. Very good. I will prove myself good to you, Mr. Barnes." The connotations of his statement were obvious enough for even the bear to pick them up, and the interviewer leant forwards, his fingers digging into the flesh on Frey's backside as he thrust and jutted his hips up against the raccoon's body. He reached around and curled his fingers up along Frey's naked body, the 18 year old's clothes strewn across the private office.

"You're so fucking warm..." The bear growled lustfully, his lewd fingers dancing across the raccoon's front, making Frey briefly shudder. The bear wasn't all that unattractive, but the way his hands greedily roamed like a man who hadn't seen action in some years was a little discomforting, to say the least.

His fingers snaked back again, and he harshly pushed against Frey's back, forcing him to lean forwards. The raccoon positioned himself on his elbows as the bear's hands moved back down to his hips, and he hoisted Frey up, beginning to thrust up into him whilst tugging his ass up and down at the same time. He roughly pounded back and forth as his breathing grew heavier and heavier.

"Nnf, I'm gonna cum-- can I do it inside?" The bear grunted, awaiting the raccoon's response-- though his thrusts didn't relent, giving the indication that he had no intention of withdrawing even if Frey asked for it. The raccoon pushed his hips down and purred slightly.

"Anywhere you want." He murmured, which was enough for the bear. With a few final thrusts, the older man orgasmed, and he pulled Frey down onto his member to bury himself entirely in him once more. Frey could feel the thick, warm pulsing in his loins, the warmth that tickled up his spine and made his own half-chub member idly twitch at the sensation. The raccoon made a point of firmly squeezing his muscles, just to make sure he'd coaxed out every last drop of cum from the bear's cock as the man leant forwards, stroking his hands along Frey's back.

"You're hired, Mr. Ivankov. You start on Monday." The bear informed him, and Frey sighed with some degree of relief. Having the extra money would make life easier.

Frey's internment began rather chaotically, if only because they struggled to find somewhere to put him. He fit into the team rather well after several days, however, and though he was an oddity that didn't really socialise with any of them, his work was outstanding. As an intern, the most he was allowed to do unsupervised was collect equipment for testing, handle any research animals and fetch coffee and tea for the head scientists, or those currently working. When he interjected into their research with thoughts of his own, his intelligence brought a wave of subtle yet noticeable change to both the dynamic of the workplace as well as how they conducted their research as a whole.

He'd moved out his internship rather quickly, as those only tended to last a year or so before management decided whether to take them on board properly or not. Frey's relationship with his employer, who also happened to have been his interviewer all those years ago, meant that his job was all but secured so long as he stayed on his good side-- which only required a rendezvous once a week, at best. The bear was a passionate lover, but he was married; he couldn't afford to spend any more time together than the occasional meeting during lunch.

It took a good few years before Frey's hard work eventually bore fruit. Some 5 years after his internship transitioned into a steady job, a senior position in the department opened up and candidates were pooled through management to pick someone suitable for the job. Though Frey hadn't been there all that long compared to some of the other scientists, his cutting edge work and suggestions in improving their productivity had made him a viable asset that they intended to keep around. What better way to convince someone to stay with your company than by plying them with more money. For the higher ups, Frey taking the position seemed like a no-brainer, and in a matter of weeks he had moved into a new office and had a fleet of junior scientists under his command.

There were more perks than just his own office-- Frey was allowed his own private lab, and he made good use of it, though it was under the express condition that all his experiments were approved by his manager. After all, they didn't want their new senior scientist to be diverting their funding elsewhere. Frey was smarter than them, however, and was more than aware of how to move money around to do the experiments he was more interested in: fringe science and the exploration of the supernatural.

Superheroes had been a common occurrence since Frey was a kid, and every child dreamed of having superpowers. Unfortunately, reality soon kicks them to the curb when their abilities, or lack thereof, fail to manifest once they hit puberty. Frey was no exception to this rule, but he yearned to be special. That yearning turned into a scientific curiosity as he grew older, and now he was intent on finding exactly what it was that made superheroes the all-powerful beings that they were. Was it genetic mutation? Some magic otherworldly power? His drive to get to the bottom of it was becoming something of an obsession, and more and more of his department's funding was sunk into his ideals and his personal research.

His senior position lasted him quite some time, but the sad fact remained that in all the years he spent desperately searching for an answer to his questions came up empty. He was no closer to finding out why superheroes were the way that they were than he was when he started. Over the years, his mental health began to deteriorate. Even some of his subordinates were beginning to see him go a little crazy, working late hours as he poured mercilessly over his research notes, hoping to find any sort of clue. He'd even paid heroes to come in and provide blood samples and DNA, but even those endeavours came up empty. His research was very quickly becoming his life's work as he had nothing to show for it.

His senior position eventually became managerial, and he became a pillar of the company. He was no CEO, and had no real influence with the board of directors that sat above him, metaphorically speaking, but he commanded considerably more scientists than he did previously, even going so far as to hire more when needed. He employed his previous manager's values into his interviews, and enjoyed the fruits of his labours more than once.

It was becoming clear to his employees, however, that it was time to put an end to his madness. It wasn't just them that felt that way either: even the board of directors began to sniff around his department, having picked up a tip that funds were being used inappropriately. As much as he had done his best to sway them, the continued to press until they managed to find where all the diverted funds were going, and how long they'd been going for. They wanted to threaten him with fraud, but they were aware of the good work he'd done otherwise, so they gave him an option: put up a fight and face prison, or resign amicably and never work in the scientific industry again. Frey would rather work out of his garage than go to jail, and so he regretfully resigned at the age of 40.

Frey wasn't the type to take things lying down, however. His guilt soon turned to a maniacal anger. He was sure he was onto something with his research, and they dashed away all his hopes with a flick of their wrist and a dismissive snort. He couldn't take it. He won't.

And so, the fateful day came. On March 8th, in the dead of night, Frey returned to Halcyon Labs. He knew security well enough to know where they'd be-- he'd snuck into the labs enough times during the night to continue his research, and spent many nights after hours, enough for him to get used to the guards usual patterns. They hadn't even attempted to amp up their security, presumably because they didn't consider Frey a threat. They were wrong.

All it took was a match, a few chemicals and a penchant for arson for Frey to light up his old laboratory and let it smoulder and burn-- they had already taken away his research anyway, so there was nothing left for him. Since the lab was deep in the facility, the fire wasn't noticed until Frey was already outside of the building. The fire alarms sounded and the fire department came in not too long after, but they were all too late. There was simply too much for them to put the fire out, and Halcyon Labs soon became wrapped in billowing flames. Frey watched from the other side of the street with nothing but a smug satisfaction. That chapter of his life was over, and now he'd have to look for somewhere new.

There was one thing he hadn't accounted for, however: the appearance of a hero.

As he had turned to leave, intending to sneak out through a nearby alleyway and head home, a figure blocked his path. Bathed in the dark of night, Frey could only make out the outline of a muscular figure, one who was kept themselves in good shape. Frey could only make out the outline of their short, floppy ears in the darkness-- simply too many species for him to be a clear deduction of who he was up against. The raccoon stopped in his tracks.

"Frey Ivankov..." The figure spoke, quietly and simply. "One of the most prominent up and coming scientists of the past generation...or was, had you not destroyed what semblance of a reputation you had."

"So you know me. Yes, hmhm. Good. Good for you," Frey spluttered. "Here to turn me in, hm? Arrest me? You have no prove. None. Not at all. Nothing."

"Arrest you? Mr. Ivankov..." The figure stepped forwards into the strip of light that lashed across the side of the alleyway, revealing his canine features and black and tan fur. "I'm here to recruit you."

Frey looked him up and down. The man was well-built, but clad in spandex. Not even a villain would wear such a thing, which meant that he was a hero, a pillar of the community. Even still, Frey didn't know if he could trust him. Not completely. This man was, by all accounts, a stranger.

"And why should I, hm? Heroes do good work. What do you want me for?" Frey asked, taking a single step back, considering his escape options.

"Because your other option is prison time," The Rottweiler spoke, his muzzle curling into a small smile. "And I know you'd rather work out of your garage than go to jail."

Frey paused. Those were his thoughts. His inner thoughts, even. He knew, in that moment, that the Rottweiler had him cornered. If he knew something that he'd never told anyone before, than his smarts told him that the canine could see into his mind. If he could do that, then there was nothing that Frey could think of to get out of this situations. Every escape route would be covered. Every possible plan foiled before he could make it. The raccoon relaxed, if only slightly, and sighed through his nose.

"And what do I call my new employer, hm?" Frey purred quietly, lidding his gaze a little. Though metaphorically pinned by the man, there was something alluring about a man with power. The Rottweiler grinned, his eyes glittering with hidden plans. He reached out his gloved hand.

"You can call me Top Dog."



---------- x x x ----------



"So let me get this straight..." Fang began with a frown. "You committed arson and Top Dog...bailed you out?"

"Hmhm, yes, yes, that about covers it," Frey hummed his approval, having already finished the operation for the most part. "He gave me a lab and money and sex so I was okay with it."

"...You know you could easily be arrested for admitting to arson, right?" Fang reminded him. "Why'd you tell me?"

"Hm...he has you in a corner too, yes? We are...comrades, hmhm." The raccoon seemed satisfied with his line of deduction, and the mid-40's raccoon shifted, running his fingers along the seam in which he'd glued Hank's skull back together.

"He'll be out another 2 hours," The raccoon spoke rather quickly. "I have other things to do. You watch him."

With that, the raccoon turned and briskly made his way out of the room before Fang could even protest. A groan escaped the deer's throat and he turned towards Top Dog, watching his slumbering face. A feeling of resentment washed over him. Perhaps Frey was right. They were all trapped in a corner by this man.

It would be very easy to get rid of him. He knew that. All it took was something as simple as a flex of a muscle. A snap of his fingers, quite literally, and Top Dog could disappear forever. The temptation was there, but Fang's resolve was more considerable than a petty anger. He knew what kind of a man he was. Though he'd spent years in jail, he'd never use his power to wink someone out of existence like that-- at least, not deliberately. 

He clenched his fist so hard until his whole arm visibly shook from the exertion, before he let it go and sighed. Just like that, he relinquished the knot of anxiety in him, a skill he'd learnt on his own in prison. It helped him calm down, even if only a little.

With that, he moved to sit in a nearby chair and sighed, reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. If he had to stay here for another couple of hours, he might as well read a book.



---------- x x x ----------



"Are you sure this is the place?"

"You've been here before, Mr. Thorn. Don't you remember it?"

"I do."

It wasn't that Thorn was forgetful, he was just hoping that Joey might have second thoughts about his plan.

They stood in an alleyway nearby, their eyes fixated on the building opposite: Top dog's HQ, which was slowly being rebuilt after the explosion some months prior.

Joey and Thorn had spent quite a lot of time together in the past two months-- more or less every day, but for one or two days where Thorn needed to do something alone. Thorn would be hard pressed to say that he was still indifferent to the boy; spending so much time with him was bound to create some sort of connection, to the point where Thorn almost felt bad for the boy. To be shunned by what he assumed to be his friends and kept on the sidelines was a depressing thought.

For Joey, those two months had been an eye opener in more ways than one. Thorn wasn't like the others: he worked for himself, and no-one else. Though he was amicable enough to feed Joey and help him with his powers, he still had that air of freedom about him that the likes of Javier, Wayne and the others didn't seem to possess. Perhaps it was because, unlike them, Thorn didn't have the weight of Top Dog's eyes upon them.

One very important thing had come out of his time with Thorn, and that was the discovery of his true potential. Since he was a younger rat boy, he'd only assumed he could heal. Experts had chalked it up to a gland in his body that they seemed unable to identify, and Joey had always stuck with the notion that he could help everyone and anyone just by being near them. What he'd done to Fang and what he'd discovered about himself was ultimately the opposite. His emotions and how he felt affected his gifts in the most startling way: he couldn't just give life, but also take it.

Thorn called it 'vital rearrangement', and Joey thought that had a nice ring to it. It wasn't a simple giving and taking that the gland inside him could perform, but an actual rearrangement of life-- when he was healing others, he was pulling from his own reserves by default. Upon learning this, Joey began to panic, but Thorn assured him that as he'd already manifested his ability and used it for a couple of years, it could be deduced that it was using the calories in his system, rather than his actual lifespan. In truth, neither of them could find a suitable explanation for it.

Thorn is not a good teacher, nor has he ever taught anyone to use their powers before, but after some coaxing and experimentation, he successfully managed to help Joey control the aura that normally enveloped everyone around him. Though it wasn't quite enough for him to fully master it, Joey could at least keep his abilities to himself and not have to eat so much in the process. Their attempts to coax Joey's rearrangement into taking life rather than giving it proved too difficult for him to manage at that moment, though Thorn silently guessed it was down to his emotional state.

Joey had made his plan clear since the first day they met, almost. The rodent spilled the beans completely on Top Dog's current plan, though felt considerably guilty about it later. In actuality, Thorn knew some of what Joey had already revealed, and the boy's insight wasn't quite as deep as he would have liked. One thing stuck out however: Top Dog was keeping a specimen in the lower parts of his private laboratory. Joey insisted the specimen was a friend, but Thorn was suspicious. A figure floating in a tank was not something that ordinary people kept around, especially not heroes. He was keen to know more, even if he didn't have the expertise to identify it properly.

They'd spent the last 2 months out of town, but they were now in Langris City once more. Thorn was certain they were going to be tailed, so the two of them opted for disguises-- Thorn ditched his usual attire for casual jeans and a jacket, whilst Joey donned a baseball cap, bandage, and baggy clothing that included a hoodie, making him appear as a common street hoodlum. They blended in rather effectively and moved across town efficiently enough in just an hour or so, though they had to dodge the odd tail or two. Thorn was pretty clear that, by the time they reached the coveted HQ of one of the most influential heroes in the world, they'd have people waiting for them. Of course, neither of them were aware that said hero was currently unconscious and that the HQ was, for the most part, unmanned.

"Do you remember where it is?" Thorn asked him, and Joey's steely glare showed the older man all the determination to boy had for this moment. He couldn't quite peg why Joey was intent on going against his mentor, but he chalked it up to a petty resentment.

"Mhm." Joey nodded firmly.

"Good. I have the van on standby. Let's move." Thorn made a gesture, and he crossed the quiet, dark street to the building's entrance. Joey faltered briefly before he followed.



---------- x x x ----------



Though he was under, he could feel everything.

Well, 'feel' was a bit of a strong word. If he could physically feel it, then he'd be in sheer agony from head to toe. Rather, Hank could sense what was going on around him, as if his mind had transcended to another level of consciousness. He could sense the chip being inserted into his brain, sense Fang and Frey moving around him-- though not what they said-- and could sense even the most minute of movements from beyond the room. They were the only three in the building, yet it felt like there were a million things watching and waiting.

The chip activated, of that Top Dog was certain. It was as if he felt a spike in his brain, a pulse of electricity that supercharged his senses. Though his eyes were closed as he felt as if he were floating in a sea of black, the area around his consciousness lit up all at once in an array of bright blue lights. So much more had opened to him, but one particular segment was the brightest. He knew what it was: Novus.

This was the inevitable plan all along, and the chip was just the start. Hank knew he was running out of time: sooner or later, his body was start to crumble under the effects of his own mind. To make sure the transfer to Novus would run smoothly, Hank had requested an in-take and out-take chip, a sort of transmitter and receiver to be planted in his and Novus's head respectively. Frey had caught onto what Hank meant immediately, but to anyone else it would have been confusing. It was, to put it simply, a remote access to another body. Hank hoped that by transmitting parts of himself over and managing to use Novus from a distance, his mind could grow accustomed to another body and by extension be able to use it flawlessly when the time came.

Granted, it was all fringe science. Hank had no way of knowing how it would work, or if it would work successfully. He was relying on Frey's eagerness and expertise to see it through-- some might have even said it was crazy talk, but Hank didn't have a choice. He didn't want to die, not yet.

Focusing on that bright spark seemed to instantly establish a link. He could sense parts of his mind being pulled away somewhere else, as if he were being distracted. He focused on that feeling and felt more of himself slipping away into Novus's mind. It was exactly what he wanted-- the more of him that went, the more he could control it. Parts of him were left behind as the connection between the two began to strain.

Then, suddenly, Top Dog felt something akin to a 'click' in his mind. A snap, in which everything locked into place. He began to sense more than himself and the things around him, and he soon realised that it wasn't just his mind he was sensing things from, but another, as if the two were one. He flexed his power subtly and felt a wide bubble stretch out around him from two separate locations, expanding his telepathy from not only himself, but Novus too. That told him all he needed to know: the chip was a success.

Yet, something was amiss. Not with him, or with Novus, but beyond the confines of their physical bodies. Hank was picking up two other people, of which one was familiar and one was not. He couldn't quite sense who they were completely, but he knew that no-one else was meant to be here.

'Fang', he called out, yet felt his voice reverberate around in his mind rather than outwards. The anaesthetic inhibited his telepathic abilities somewhat: enough for him to be unable to call out for help, but not enough for him to be unable to feel where people were. Unfortunately, without the former he had no hopes of stopping them. He had to bank on Fang doing his best.

He laid and waited, watching through the corners of his mind. He tracked their movements with his mind, sensing the two intruders making their way through the building. It was hard to tell where they were going initially, but as Top Dog grew used to using Novus's mind as well as he own, he came to a rather stunning conclusion: they were making their way to Novus. That meant they knew he existed, which meant that the two intruders were someone who was close to him. The realisation of their identity hit him: Joey, and presumably Thorn.

A million questions ran through his mind, but none of them mattered. As much as he wanted to know why Joey was back after 2 months or why he was betraying him like this, he needed to figure out a way to stop them. No matter how much he yelled and shouted in his mind to try and reach out to Fang, however, his voices fell on deaf ears, metaphorically speaking. His frustration grew to a peak. He strained and strained to push himself outwards until it felt as if his very mind were about to burst. He couldn't let Thorn ruin what he'd worked so long to achieve, even if it almost killed him.

There was a crack. A sharp split that cascaded through his mind. If he was awake, he would have cried out in agony. Instead, all he could manage was to roar a single name.

"Fang!"



---------- x x x ----------



Fang practically jumped out of his seat when he heard someone calling his name. He soon recognised the voice for what it was and stowed his phone away in his pocket, casting his gaze towards the unconscious Rottweiler.

"Hank? What is it?" The deer stood and crossed the distance towards him, frowning at the thought of why he might hear him so suddenly, and so urgently too. Yet, even when he asked the question, Fang was given no response. The canine was utterly silent and unmoving, but for his slow breathing. Fang racked his brains to think of why Hank would do such a thing. Even in the face of a crisis, he was calm and collected.

Fang did the only thing he could think to do, and he pushed out his senses. He was similar to Top Dog in that way, though he could only really feel matter around him, as if he were pre-empting to delete it. He'd used it enough time by now to not be so trigger happy with removing things, but it certain helped-- people were made up of certain compounds and chemicals that made them easy to sense and figure out. Sure enough, as his senses spread out, he felt out the particles of two people. Though unidentifiable, Fang was certain that no-one but he, Hank and Frey were in the building. God knows where Frey was, but if there were two people running together then he doubted Frey was amongst them. Hank wouldn't have yelled so urgently otherwise.

The deer sprung into action, bitterly aware of his lack of uniform, which meant that whoever saw him and escaped might know of who he is. Regardless, it was a risk he had to take. Hank's laboratory wasn't quite as complicated or as in-depth as the place they'd visited some months ago, and Fang had a mental note of where the intruders were. It was easy for him to map his route accordingly.

A number of questions ran through his mind. Who were these intruders and what were they after? Did they have a connection to Hank in some way to terrify him so? He had no idea what answers he'd find; all he knew was that he had to stop them. After all, that was what a hero was all about.

He was close, he could sense it. He'd weaved his way through the various hallways and stood in the deepest parts of the underground facility, where even he hadn't been before. A pair of double doors sat at the far end and he knew the intruders were on the other side. Weirder still was the feeling of something else beyond, a third entity that seemed to be floating in the air or in some vat of liquid. As he sprinted towards the door, he heard the sound of glass smashing beyond the double doors. He was starting the wonder if he was too late. He reached the doors and pushed through, revealing the two culprits.

Fang was stunned at the sight before him, if only because he hadn't expected 2 of the things in front of him to happen. 

Kneeling in front of a large, now smashed tank that used to be filled with water was a rabbit with peculiar eyes, clad in casual garb. Next to him was Joey, who Fang would never have expected to be here in the first place, let alone with a complete stranger. The strangest thing was the creature between them: 6 foot tall at the very least, and brimming with muscles. All their joins looked unnatural as well as their canine features, which all seemed polished and strange. Just looking at it was jarring, yet it laid limp between the two of them, propped up by Joey and the rabbit's hands.

"J...Joey? The hell are you doing here?!" Fang exclaimed, unsure what else to say. "And...what the hell is that?"

Joey glared at Fang from the other side of the room, enough for Fang to feel unnerved. There was something hard and steely in the boy's gaze that he couldn't quite put his finger on, and it worried him. Joey was normally so kind-hearted and brave, yet in this situation he looked...determined and sullen.

"Can you handle him?" The rabbit spoke with a deep, authoritative voice that Fang knew was familiar, but he didn't know from where. Joey glanced over to the rabbit and nodded, loosening his grip on the unnatural canine and rising to his feet. Fang tensed, casting his mind back to what had happened before between them. The thought made him wince. Even after 2 months, he couldn't shake that feeling of his very being slipping away.

"I don't know who you are, or what you've done to him..." Fang raised his hand in the rabbit's direction. "But leave that thing where it is and go, before I do something I regret."

"Hmph. Eracervine...something tells me you don't have the guts." The rabbit remarked darkly and Fang's hand faltered. It was true, he didn't. The thought of using his abilities against someone else was terrifying, enough to make him tremble. Despite that, he had to look confident: if he could at least appear serious, then they might take his threat sincerely. It didn't seem like the rabbit was buying it. Then, the realisation of who he was hit him. He could finally put a face to the voice: Thorn.

"You..." The deer narrowed his gaze, but just as he thought he might be able to able out between the two of them, he felt a suctioning feeling spreading throughout his body. His legs collapsed beneath him and burned as if he'd just run a hundred miles or more without stopping. He sucked in a breath, but didn't feel his lungs expand. He coughed, violently, but couldn't manage to muster up the strength to even get on his hands and knees. He floundered helplessly on his side, aware of who was causing this. He just about found the strength to turn his head and stare up at the rodent standing above him, the boy's eyes hard and determined.

"J...Joey..." He mumbled out, his fingers trembling violently as he attempted to raise a hand. Suddenly, that aching feeling lessened, like he'd finally been allowed respite. A sigh escaped the deer's lips as Joey's eyes abruptly softened, and he looked away, almost apprehensive.

"...Sorry." The boy muttered, before he disappeared from the deer's field of view. Even if Eracervine had the ability to get up and follow them, he had a feeling he'd be powerless against them. Even his own remarkably strong ability couldn't combat the power that Joey gave off. Even if it could, Fang was sure he wouldn't have the heart to do what perhaps needed to be done.

He managed to roll to the side, staring as Joey and Thorn hoisted the canine between them up and carried him out. He could hear them walking as they passed.

"How exactly did you do that?" Thorn was demanding of the boy, who seemed to stutter over his words a little.

"I-I thought of how angry I was and it seemed to work."

"Okay. And how did you stop?"

"I...didn't want him to die."

"Hold onto that. That's your anchor..."

They soon were too far out of earshot for him to listen any further. Though that feeling in him subsided and he was confident he'd get his strength back in time, he couldn't even manage to stand. He closed his eyes and felt his body willing him to rest. He'd have the face what happens later. There was no doubt in his mind that Top Dog would be pissed. 

But first, Top Dog would have to call Javier and let him know Fang would not be able to make it to dinner that evening.



---------- x x x ----------



Something in him snapped when the tubes were disconnected.

It was as if the connection between the two of them had severed. Two minds that were once one suddenly became two.

And in that moment, Novus was born.

His senses came to him slowly, like a creeping fire that spread around his body. He could smell first: the raw iron, the sweat, the potent stench of chemicals all mixed into a cocktail of overbearing and overwhelming scents that overloaded his senses for just a fraction of a second before they subsided and normalised. Then came his hearing: the hum of an engine and the quiet panting of a figure beside him. Next, his sense of touch. Slowly the nerves on his body began to wake, and he became aware of a number of things. He had no clothes, and the metal floor beneath him was cold and hard. But amongst all that was the warmth of a touch, the feeling of small hands upon him, stroking over his skin.

He willed his muscles to flex and move and his eyes peeled open. He parted his lips to suck in his very first deep breath, and his lungs expanded to compensate. Beneath that was another set of lungs that expanded after the first. He felt as if he'd taken the biggest breath of his life, and his entire body became charged with oxygen. His fingers curled against the cold iron and he felt it suddenly loosen beneath his touch.

"C-Careful!" A voice whispered, and he felt the warmth of those fingers on the back of his head. He finally turned his head, his blurred vision focusing as he became aware of his surroundings. He took in the face of the rodent boy beside him, a stranger, an unknown figure. He looked down to his hand and saw that the metal that easily succumbed to his grip. Something told him it shouldn't be like that.

Then, in an instant, the memories returned. All that had happened, all that had transpired. The connection. The awakening. Minds copied over and linked as one. The severing, and now...here. He remembered who he was, or rather, who he was meant to be. Suddenly, his body became familiar, as did the boy before him.

"J...Joey." He spoke, his vocal cords reverberating a deep, monotonous voice that he hadn't expected to come from him. He had been so used to his own voice before. It was strange. Delightful, yet...confusing.

"Novus. You're okay!" Joey breathed a sigh of relief. "I thought it might have hurt when we took you out of the tank, but..."

"I'm fine." He rumbled again. "W...Where are we?"

"In the back of the van. Thorn's...taking us somewhere safe." The boy cast his gaze over towards the seats at the other end of the van, and Novus remembered: Thorn and Joey had broken into the lab to take him. He should be angry, and he was, yet...this could prove useful to him. He could make this work. He parted his lips to speak, but the rat boy shushed him.

"Rest," He insisted. "You must be hungry, right? We're stopping at the service station soon. There's some clothes too, you can change when we stop, hopefully you'll dry off before then..."

The boy handed over a towel and Novus took it in his hands, staring down at it. He'd play the fool for now, but he was left to wonder...

What had happened to his other half?



---------- x x x ----------



As much as he hated it, Hank awoke groggily, his anger bubbling beneath the surface. Joey had betrayed him. He'd mentored the boy as much as he could, and hoped he'd remain loyal. He'd only kept his distance so that his departure would be easier on him. He hadn't expected this. He usually planned for everything, but this...was an unpredictable outlier.

Novus was gone. The connection had severed long ago and Hank felt like he'd lost a piece of himself. His memories felt intact, but he felt...strange. Fragmented. It was yet another mystery of the fringe science he was experimenting with. As he flexed his fingers and heard Frey's idle chatter reaching his ears, he began to plot. If he could get Novus back, he was sure things would be fine.

"...Sorry, sorry. Yes. I know. Yes. Mhm. You're mad. I mean, you're not speaking, so I suppose you might be a little knocked out still, but...uh. Hm. I don't-- Hm. what to do..."

"Shut up, Frey." 

Hank slurred his words, but he found enough strength to sit up. He felt as if he'd been hit by a truck-- there was no doubt that the severing of the connection had a physical effect on him somehow, yet he hadn't planned for this. He probed his mind outwards and felt a sharp stab of pain. He'd overdone it before, so perhaps he should take a break for now. 

He turned his head and remembered where he was. Frey was pacing around the room, looking visibly nervous. Hank couldn't remember a time when he'd seen the raccoon so panicked. He was mumbling to himself, but Hank knew that Frey was talking to him-- he just didn't have the confidence to speak up. Not in that moment, anyway.

"Where's Fang? Get him here." Hank ordered, and Frey paused for a moment, turning his head this way and that, looking around him.

"I-- uh, do you...I mean, uh--"

"Yes, you, Frey!" Hank exclaimed, exasperated. "Go. Please."

"Y-Yes. Yes." Frey turned and walked out the door as fast as he good, leaving Hank in peace. The canine groaned and grasped his head, deciding he might need some painkillers of some kind. He could feel a migraine coming on. He had one thing to do beforehand, however.

Staggering across the room, aware that there was a drip hanging off his wrist, Top Dog made his way to the nearby desk where he'd left his phone and picked it up. He tapped away on it for a moment before bringing it to his ear.

"Hello? Yes. This is Top Dog. I want all eyes on vans leaving the city. Yes, all eyes."

There was a pause.

"Trust me, this is a lead. The scientists can wait. Get your eyes on those vans now. Check CCTV if you have to. Call me if you find anything promising."

He hung up and tossed his phone to the desk, leaning against the edge of it for a moment to steady himself. After a few moments of tender silence, Fang appeared in the doorway, his face pale.

"I--" The deer began, but Top Dog raised a hand.

"Spare it," He muttered darkly. "...I underestimated Joey's resentment, and Thorn's ability. To think they'd have the gall...and at the worst time, too. I have eyes on the roads, but they're probably leaving the city by now."

"So...what do we do?" Fang muttered.

"I guess the first step would be to tell you everything."