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[PROTOTYPE]: Reborn	By : ShinaRyun Category: +M through R > Prototype Series Views: 3341 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: PROTOTYPE and all derivative/associated works and titles belong to Activision, Radical Entertainment, and their affiliates. I make NO PROFIT from this writing.

Chapter List
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- 5
Twenty minutes before Horst found out that his work was, at last, yielding successful results, Fritz had been handed some work of his own, and just like his lover, Fritz loathed it.
A boat,” he had said simply, looking up from the report which had been placed on his desk to the lieutenant who had put it there; with a major’s marks on his chest, Fritz was perfectly happy to remain sitting as his junior officer barked out a reply.
“Yes, sir. Civilian claims that his boat was stolen, sir.”
Fritz looked down to the report, blinking. “The date on this says he filed it ten years ago, lieutenant.”
“Sir,” the younger man replied, keeping his eyes locked onto a spot on the wall over Fritz’s (Or Major Geoffrey, as he was known at work) head, “the civilian claims that the time of the theft should be irrelevant, and is demanding that I perform an investigation.”
“Lieutenant, this report if from New fucking York,” Fritz said slowly, standing up from behind his desk and leaning over it, palms flat on the wooden surface, utterly annoyed. “Who the fucking hell is this civilian? The goddamn mayor?”
“He claims that he could have the mayor down here in ten minutes, sir.”
Fritz snarled in Geoffrey’s rumbling baritone. “No shit! Do you know why? Because we’re in martial fucking law, you ivy-league asswipe! The mayor has less fucking influence in this city than a goddamn prostitute! Now why the fuck did you bring me this bullshit before I’ve had my goddamn coffee?!”
“Sir, I apologize for bringing you bullshit before your coffee, but…”
“But what, lieutenant? My patience is already shorter than your prick! Spit it out!”
“Sir…I’m unsure how to deal with mentally incapacitated civilians in this scenario.”
“With a denial, a threat, and the back of our fucking hand. I’ll demonstrate for your convenience,” Fritz growled as he jabbed a thick finger down onto the report. “Do I give one cold shit about this? No. Can you make me give one cold shit about this? No. Bring me another piece of irrelevant trash like this again and I will break your fucking teeth around my boot. Now get the fuck out,” Fritz grumbled as he sat back down, not taking his hand off the report as the lieutenant apologized, saluted, did an abrupt about-face and hustled out of Fritz’s office, shutting the door behind him.
“Dumbass,” Fritz muttered, shaking his head before turning the report around and poring over it intently; in total contradiction to his initial reaction, he really was fascinated with the report, and anything else which had taken place ten years ago or in NYZ. Any documents from that time or place had potential relevance to his and Horst’s mission, and so the Evolved spent a good five minutes looking over the three-page report to make sure that he got everything from it.
It was mostly rubbish; one page was nothing but a written letter of complaint from the owner, apparently tacked on to make his wait for any progress seem more outrageous. Fritz read it once and then tossed it into his garbage can with a snort of derision.
The second and third pages were more interesting; the boat in question was something of interest all on its’ own, an ocean-worthy yacht which had put her owner almost a million dollars in the hole. Apparently, no-one bothered looking for it in all the confusion of the infection, making it one more of a myriad of other thefts which had occurred during that time period, when the police were entirely useless, and the military and Blackwatch were more focused on killing Mercer-virus zombies than going out on crime-watch.
Still…by the time that the report had been filed, all ship traffic had been suspended by Blackwatch to ensure that the virus didn’t spread, with violators being shot out of the water. On a whim, Horst turned to his computer and started searching through Blackwatch’s files, familiar ones from ten years ago which he scoured at least once a week in search for anything useful. This time, he refined his search to any recorded conflicts or incidents on the water, finding a number of reports of military vessels either shooting boats attempting to flee the quarantine zone, or painting them for jets to strafe and sink. He didn’t see any reports which matched the missing yacht, though.
Chewing over half an idea, Fritz rapidly pulled up half a dozen sites for world news and performed systematic searches for reports of large boats found abandoned or wrecked, chewing his bottom lip in thought, muttering to himself.
“Junks in Asia…no…a schooner in Africa…no…cruise ship? How the hell does someone wreck a cruise ship and not be found that long?! Ugh…let’s see…huh?” He leaned closer to his monitor, narrowing his eyes slightly, murmuring under his breath as he read. “Irish officials find wrecked pleasure-boat…search yields no bodies…investigation of surrounding area comes up with nothing…GPS missing, serial numbers incomplete, both appeared to be-“
Fritz paused and just stared at his screen, blinking slowly and forgetting to breathe for a minute, his eyes fixed on one word which the article’s author seemed to have thought appropriate.
Clawed.
Fritz scrolled down slowly and read the rest of the article, but it wasn’t until he saw the two attached pictures at the bottom that he gasped in shock. There, in grainy, scratchy color, was the yacht he was looking for; sandblasted, wind-worn, rusted, pitted and banged up beyond belief, there was still no denying that the picture in the theft report matched the wreck in the article. A quick check of the serial numbers which remained on the wreck showed that they matched up to the stolen yacht, but more than anything that convinced Fritz he was looking at something big was that word: clawed.
“He needed to get away,” Fritz whispered to himself, so lost in thought that his real, high voice showed through the meat-mask he wore, “he knew that there wouldn’t be anywhere safe in the states…no planes…the quarantine could have gone down or a shift have been late in changing…the boat was there…it would have been stocked for travel…he could have used the GPS to track to a dead coast…zombie Christ, that’s it.”
He leaned back in his seat and grinned, then abruptly stood up and walked around his desk, out the door and straight into the closest bathroom, where a quick shift of his appearance made him look like a lowly private. He was out and down the hall in a flash, hard boots slapping against the tiled floor as he tore down the hall to the checkpoint leading from the Blackwatch base to the outside world. A swipe of his card and a flash of his biometrics through the door scanner opened up a door in the fencing and had him out on the street as fast as could be, the yells of annoyed MP’s ringing after him. He ignored them, turning the first corner he came to and continuing to run until he found the privacy to rapidly switch his form to one of several plainly clothed civilian disguises he kept on hand, pulling his phone from a pocket and starting to walk as he hit Horst’s speed dial, ignoring the crowds of people he mingled into.
“Jesus, sweetheart, I was just about to-“
“Shut up and listen!” Fritz hissed. “I think that I might have a lead for us!”
“Almost as good news as mine,” Horst countered over the phone, leaving the lobby of the Gentek complex behind him and jogging away, performing a discrete switch in his appearance to mimic a regular civilian, just as Fritz had.
“What the fucking hell could you possibly have that’s as good as hearing that we may know where to really start looking?” Fritz asked as he walked quickly towards where he knew Horst would be coming from.
“How ‘bout the news that Project Phoenix just had positive test results, bitch?”
Fritz paused mid-step, blinked once, and then just chuckled as he kept walking. “Well, fuck…yeah, you got me there. What happened?”
“Killed a rat, took its’ DNA and threw that in with some of the formula and a shit-ton of meat. Thing grew right back.”
“Sweet,” Fritz muttered, grinning. “And you just used DNA? Not a blood sample or something?”
“Do I look like a fucking idiot? Of course we just used DNA.”
“Just checking,” Fritz said, sighing and looking up at the sky as he walked. “So what now?”
“Now you tell me what the hell you found,” Horst said with a chuckle.
Fritz grinned. “Found out that a boat got stolen right from its port in NYZ during the second outbreak…apparently right near the end, when most of the Infected disappeared. Also found that this same boat was found washed up on the Irish coast, abandoned.”
Horst raised an eyebrow as he walked, pulling the phone from his ear to stare at it for a moment. His tone was less than impressed when he spoke again. “That’s all you got? A washed-up boat?”
“A washed-up boat that disappeared from NYZ at the end of the infected outbreak. Think about it; Heller would have needed a way out of the city, he could have taken his daughter with him, the boat was already stocked for long distance travel, staying in the country would be too risky, there were no planes he could have taken…this makes sense, Horst.”
“Hmmm…” Horst stroked his chin thoughtfully, fingers dragging through the short beard that this particular mask had. “Alright, that makes more sense…so Ireland, huh?”
“Seems to be the most likely place to start.”
“We haven’t gotten anything back from our searches about Ireland.”
“We also haven’t gotten anything back from anywhere else, Horst.”
“Fair enough,” Horst chuckled.
Fritz chuckled back. “So what now?”
“Now we do what we planned to do…we send out for Pierce, we send him out a-hunting, and then we go do some hunting of our own.”
“Of course,” Fritz muttered, sighing and lifting his free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Of course, we’re going to use Pierce again.”
“Not happy, sweetheart?”
“Oh, no, why wouldn’t I be, Horst?” Fritz scowled, ticking off his fingers as he spoke, listing offences. “Pierce has only shit on me, bitten me, and given me lice. I fucking love the guy.”
Horst chuckled on the other end of the line, uncaringly bumping people aside as he walked. “I’m sure that he loves you too, sweetheart. And regardless of whether he loves you, he obeys you, and he can find out more if we use him.”
Fritz’s sigh on the other end of the call made Horst grin sadistically. “Fine,” the other Evolved grunted before the line went dead; Horst glanced up and saw why, seeing Fritz’s disguised form jogging the last block towards him. Horst did the same, meeting his partner halfway before both turned down an alley to start walking more easily towards their home.
“I hate using Pierce,” Fritz muttered.
“He is useful, though,” Horst said with a chuckle.
Fritz said nothing else until they got back to their home, too busy grumbling under his breath and cursing in his own head. Even once they got back, he didn’t say much, immediately going to the Evolved’s computer bank and starting localized searches of anything to do with Ireland, checking everything from global-worthy news to local obituaries. It made Horst laugh now and then, how his lover’s spite over this plan affected him so.
It was two hours before Fritz leaned away from the terminal he’d been staring at, sighing and looking over to Horst with a raised eyebrow. “Well,” he said, shrugging, “a police investigation of that particular section of the island turned up nothing, though two officers disappeared while making house calls and still haven’t been heard from since. Their car was apparently found back at their station, with no-one else’s prints inside it, but the cops themselves are nowhere to be found.”
“It fits, eh?” Horst said with a grin, chuckling. “I can see it now…Heller needs someplace to stay fast, so he finds some guy living on his own and consumes him, and claims that Amaya and Dana are new roommates. Police come knocking, they get invited in for coffee, and two consumed pigs later he’s free to drive their car back and walk out the front door before switching bodies.”
“It’s convenient, but it doesn’t necessarily fit, love,” Fritz said as he crossed his arms, lifting one hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose.
“Well then, let’s go get Pierce and see about getting some more clarification, eh?” Horst asked through a grin, practically bouncing on his heels.
“You’re enjoying my pain way too much,” Fritz grumbled as he stood and made his way to the apartment’s front door, a chuckling Horst in tow.
“I’m enjoying it exactly as much as I should, sweetheart. Just because you’re cranky doesn’t mean I have to be.”
“Oh, shut up,” Fritz muttered, just making Horst laugh as the two Evolved made their way up to the building’s roof, already tinting red with the impending sunset.
“Nice timing,” Horst commented, nodding approvingly. “Be harder for anyone to notice us.”
“Fair point,” Fritz admitted as he stepped away from Horst and rubbed his hands together, breathing in and out slowly as he felt within himself for one of the powers that he’d taken for himself during their time in NYZ.
“You sure that you’ve got enough to do it?” Standing a fair distance away, Horst watched attentively, hands in his pockets to hide their nervous drumming.
“Just,” Fritz grunted before he drew in a long, slow breath, each second he inhaled making his swelling chest push faint, thin trails of redish mist from his back and shoulders, his body folding in on itself gradually as he drew in. Horst watched without realizing that he was holding his own breath, unconsciously reaching up to push his glasses closer to his eyes before abruptly starting as Fritz’s preparation came to its’ peak. Within Fritz’s body, biomass he’d been saving up from each meal and each consume combined and formulated with the air he drew in to form a chemical compound unique to the Evolved, which gave any Evolved who mastered the mutation dominion over creatures affected by the Mercer virus, to a limited extent.
In NYZ, Fritz had used the ability to control Brawlers, forcing them to fight for him. Since their exile, the two Evolved had found a subtler use for the ability, which started once more as Fritz forcibly expelled the supercharged biomass from his body with a primeval shout, his back bowing out and his head throwing back as a wave of blood-red smoke billowed from him, disguised in the reddening light, spreading too quickly to keep track of.
Horst smiled as he saw the summoning ability go into effect, letting out his breath in relief; it had been several years since they’d had any real use for his lover’s ability, and he’d been worried that Fritz might not have it in him anymore. That fear was put to rest as he saw Fritz stiffen and snap his head up and around, staring off into the distance as if hearing something beyond Horst’s perception.
“He’s coming?” Horst asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh yeah,” Fritz answered with a scowl, chuckling bitterly. “Almost hoped he wouldn’t.”
“Be kind.”
“Blow me,” Fritz muttered as he lifted up his right arm, bent at the elbow like a falconer calling his raptor in from the hunt; he had no intention of actually catching what was coming, but it helped. High, high above the two Evolved, far from the prying eyes of Blackwatch or Gentek, but never far from his master’s call, the being that both Evolved knew as Pierce approached the source of the chemical call which had summoned him.
Fritz saw him first, sighing and shaking his head. Horst only chuckled when he eventually spotted the red speck moving within the wash of red sky above them, soaring down closer every second on wings bigger than most cars. The speck rapidly grew larger, and then much larger, its’ incredible speed clear as Pierce flapped closer and closer, eventually dropping close enough to flare his wings out to slow his descent and make a slightly ungainly landing atop the rooftop, a massive gust of wind shear following as he touched down before them, his massive bulk covering the rooftop.
“You’ve grown, Pierce,” Fritz said idly, raising an eyebrow slightly. “Gentek’s fish doing you good, huh?”
Pierce’s reply was a muted, rumbling squawk that made both Evolved hiss at him to be quiet; uninfected, any albatross makes quite a bit of noise, but with the Mercer virus running rampant through his highly-mutated body, there was little Pierce could do to stay silent. He was a massive creature, bigger than most ancient Pterosaurs, his body covered in reddish-white feathers and black spines of hardened biomass, his beak like a guillotine, eyes as big as basketballs swiveling about in his skull. Both his seething red orbs were locked on Fritz, wide and unblinking as he leaned his massive beak down and nuzzled it affectionately against the Evolved.
“Yes, yes,” Fritz said with a huff, shoving the bird away and sighing. “I didn’t call your big ass over here to cuddle.” He straightened up and snapped his fingers, getting Pierce’s attention before stabbing his hand out towards the darkening eastern horizon. “Ireland!” he shouted commandingly. “Find Heller! Come back!”
The bird gave another squawk and leaned down closer to Fritz, stepping forward to nuzzle its’ colossal body against the Evolved’s, enveloping Fritz in feathers and shifting plates of glossy black biomass and making Horst cackle as he watched.
“Go!” Fritz roared, trying to shove the bird away and fighting the urge to strike it. “Ireland! Heller! Be back before sunset tomorrow, damnit!”
Another squawk and a ruffle of feathers heralded the bird’s departure, the mutant albatross pumping its’ massive wings and lifting up into the sky like a rocket leaving the earth, leaving his master behind with a massive shove of wind shear. He disappeared from sight quickly; both Evolved knew that Pierce would fly at altitudes too high to be seen by earthbound observers, the ultimate stealth plane. A biologic creature, its’ radar signature was naturally small, and was minimized further by the glossy biomass lining its’ belly and parts of its wings, rendering it as good as invisible.
Pierce had helped them in the past, providing long-range reconnaissance of Seattle before the Evolved had decided to make the city their home; the massive bird had also been helpful in getting them there discretely. The long, jostling flight held in the bird’s talons was something neither Evolved had particularly relished, but it had been less risky than replacing passengers flying commercially. Anyone who spontaneously disappeared from around the NYZ area, especially in traveling to other cities tended to draw Blackwatch’s attentions.
Fritz knew that Pierce was useful. That didn’t keep him from rounding on his cackling lover and slugging Horst in the gut, cursing loudly and picking feathers out of his hair and clothes as he walked back to their apartment to wait. Pierce could achieve astonishing speeds and cover immense distances with ease, but it was a long way to Ireland, and assuming that Pierce found some definite trace of Heller within three hours of hunting over the island, they would have a solid twenty hours before the bird came back. It would not be time spent at rest. Until Fritz dismissed Pierce or the bird was dead, the two shared a sympathetic connection that allowed Fritz to keep abreast of Pierces’ movements.
“How’s he doing?” Horst asked once he and his lover returned to their apartment, watching Fritz carefully. It wasn’t unheard of for the ex-soldier to lose himself to the sensory input he was fed from the bird as it flew, resulting in seizures that led to broken furniture, shattered windows, and blown cover. At one point, in an uncontrolled fit of delirium, he had thrown Horst through a 20^th-story window while screaming at the top of his lungs, “Let go of the shark! LET GO OF THE SHARK! FUCK OFF, SHARK!”
Apparently, once a bird reached Pierce’s size, going after small fish for nutrition was no longer an option. Seeing through Pierce’s eye’s and feeling through his talons as the mutated osprey attacked a seventeen-foot Mako had proven too much for Fritz to handle…by the time Horst managed to get back up to their then-apartment, Fritz had thrashed himself through the floor and was in the process of mauling their downstairs neighbors.
Since then, Horst had taken greater precautions whenever they had made use of Fritz’s ability, keeping a close eye on him at all times while he was linked to Pierce. Namely, he kept his more dangerous mutations close to his mind, ready to draw forth and painfully bring his lover back from the brink. As he helped Fritz in the door, he didn’t see any signs that the ex-soldier was getting ready to slip.
“He’s already climbed up to his cruise height…zombie christ, that bird is fast,” Fritz muttered as he walked through the apartment, dazed. “He’s riding thermals over land, and then it looks like he’s going to try to catch a trade wind all the way across the Atlantic.” He chuckled softly as he slid down onto the couch, his eyes slightly glassy, barely moving as Horst sat down beside Fritz and pulled the ex-soldier to lay in his lap. “Still can’t believe that he can get there and back this fast.”
“The Mercer Virus is an amazing thing,” Horst muttered, keeping a close watch on Fritz’s face, looking for any sign that his lover might be close to passing out or verging on a grand mal. It was a vigil he was familiar with, having spent many nights tending to Fritz’s nearly disembodied state when they had used Pierce to scout out parts of the country, or sent him around the world to put eyes on various anomalies they had found in their data-hunts. Maintaining control over Pierce beyond half a mile effectively forced Fritz into an out-of-body experience lasting for hours, or even days…man was not meant for such things, not even the Evolved.
Horst sat with his lover for nearly twenty hours, keeping him talking, gently forcing his attention now and then to keep him from completely going under and losing his mind to the bird’s sensory output; it had happened once before, and Horst had had a bitch of a time bringing Fritz back. He suspected that the incident had been a little scarier than Fritz would ever let on, and that it was the main reason he disliked Pierce so much.
“Tell me what you see,” Horst murmured, turned with his back against the couch’s left armrest, his legs spread to allow Fritz’s almost-dead weight to rest on his chest, cradled between his thighs, his head nestled into Horst’s hands.
Fritz gave a soft, listless giggle, lifting a hand to let his fingers wave feebly through the air before muttering in a sing-song tone. “I see trees of green…red roses too…”
Horst rolled his eyes and poked Fritz under his jaw, hard, his finger poking into his lover’s soft flesh like an awl. “Come back to us, Fritz…come towards the light. Follow my voice, or you’re going to catch one between the eyes.”
Fritz blinked rapidly at the poke and the harder words, his eyes losing some of their haze and a stiffness spreading through his molten body. “Buildings,” he murmured softly. “coming closer…fast motherfucker. Buildings …he’s coming toward the sun, so he’s got to be close…” Fritz paused a moment, then stiffened and gave a short, choked sound as his hands lashed out to grab at the couch, gasping for breath.
“Seizure?!?” Horst asked tensely, his hands and arms starting to shift and squirm in readiness.
With a strained, inarticulate noise and a bone-crushing shove, Fritz was off the couch faster than Horst could see, a desperate shake of his head doing nothing to reassure Horst as the ex-soldier leapt up and tore across the floor. Horst leapt up and followed, his pulse suddenly flying as he followed the glistening red trails of Fritz’s inflamed luminescent flesh out through the slammed-open door and up the stairwell. He had no idea what his lover was up to, but whatever it was, he wanted to see.
Horst found Fritz on the roof with his arms reaching up towards the sky, fingers clawed, his head craned back and his mouth open, roaring at the top of his lungs. “Hurry the fuck up, ya overgrown chicken! Dyin’ of old fuckin’ age, waitin’ for yer fuckin’ fat ass to get back here! Move yer shit!”
Horst could only blink for a moment, frozen mid-step towards his lover before realization hit him upside his head and forced his gaze to shoot skyward. His eyes widened and he dove back away as he saw the massive red blur which marked Pierce’s return to the apartment, along with an ear splitting, god-awful CAW! The massive bird flared its’ wings out a moment before touching down, rapidly slowing its’ descent and only shoving Fritz flat on his back instead of crushing him through the roof and the upper three stories of the building.
Horst tucked and rolled across the roof before springing to his feet, his body a ball of wiry motion, his hands up and out, ready to form into his vicious claws. He was a moment away from bringing the razor-edged hand-blades to life as he stared at his lover and the massive bird wrestle and stumble around the roof, Fritz doing everything in his considerable power to get his arms wrapped around Pierce’s beak, Pierce seeming unwilling to do anything but try to nuzzle Fritz closer to him and crow in joy.
“Shut your fucking hole!” Fritz hissed as he finally managed to get some leverage, standing on his tip-toes beneath Pierce and grabbing both arms around his beak, fingers finding purchase in the slits of the bird’s nostrils. The Evolved grunted as he forcefully yanked down, dragging the bird’s great head down to his eye level, letting him glare at his pet before speaking in a tone of voice more commonly heard from inmates on death row discussing religion.
“Quietly,” he growled, a promise of immeasurable pain hiding poorly behind each syllable, “tell me what you found.” His fingers slid away slightly, though still rested against the sides of Pierce’s beak. The bird gave a quick ruffle of his blood-red feathers and answered with a series of low clicks, whistles, and one winding, wheezing caw that reminded Horst of nothing so much as a train’s brakes in desperate need of tuning.
Fritz, however, heard something else altogether.
“You’re certain?” he breathed, his voice entirely changed, his high register making him sound nearly mousy. Pierce’s answering nod made him push himself higher onto his toes, his body visibly tense, making Horst approach cautiously.
“You actually saw him?” Fritz asked, his voice almost completely gone, his hands twitching on Pierce’s beak. “You really saw the stupid black sonofabitch?”
Another nod of Pierce’s head elicited a sound from Fritz’s mouth that Horst vowed to never let him live down…a blatant and utterly feminine squeal that would have put a pack of schoolgirls to shame. The scientist had half a moment to wonder what on earth it could mean before he suddenly found himself wrapped in his lover’s arms, Fritz’s hug so tight that he could have broken a non-Evolved right in half.
“He did it!” Fritz husked into Horst’s ear, his voice excited and so tightly strung that Horst could almost feel the words peeling the skin from his flesh….not that he cared as his lover continued. “He found him!”
“Really?” Horst breathed, his entire body breaking out in a cold rush of tingles that made him feel like he was freezing to death and being electrocuted simultaneously as his arms reached around to hug Fritz back. “So-“
“So we know,” Fritz hissed, squeezing Horst tighter and tighter, his excitement so great and his body so physically tense that Horst could hear the ex-soldier’s teeth grinding and shivering in his clenching jaw. “We know where to find him…after ten goddamn years, we finally found him!”
“And we have the serum,” Horst murmured, his tingles turning sharper, sending pins and needles flying through him and making his bioluminescent flesh glow like a radioactive spill. “So we have the place, and we have the tools…all we have left to do is to get the power.” His hands tightened slowly and his lips split apart, a savage, predatory grin filling all the available space of his mouth as his fingers started to scratch at Fritz’s shoulders.
“Power,” Frtiz purred, the sound wet, hungry. “Power enough to finally kill James fucking Heller.”
Horst nodded and smirked down at his lover. “You know what that means, don’t you sweetheart?”
Fritz smirked right back, his strong hands starting to draw blood from Horst’s back with his tight embrace. “Do tell, my beloved bastard of a soulmate.”
“It means,” Horst teased, drawing a breath that shook with desire, with need for bloody satisfaction. “that you and I, my love…need to go home, and see for ourselves just how much the neighborhood has changed in our pitiable absence.”
A few feet away from the two grinning, cackling sociopaths, Pierce felt the connection between himself and Fritz fade away as the Evolved’s mind turned from controlling the bird to more enjoyable tasks. Pierce gave a curious little caw, the sound like a diesel engine backfiring, and then pumped his enormous wings and took off once again, resolving to go hunt some of the genetically-altered tuna that Gentek farmed in Puget sound.
He couldn’t have known that he wasn’t the only one about to go hunting.
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[PROTOTYPE]: Reborn