Instantly, I was rudely shunted back into my body, my consciousness recoupled into a single viewpoint, one weighed down by the knowledge that, in all likelihood, a third of God lay dead somewhere beneath my feet.

Jonan and Suisei stood beside me, while Andalon hovered in front of me.

The door to the room Andalon had begged me not to open had been flung open by a psychokinetic push from the transformee within.

There was a soft thud as an arm hit the vinyl floor.

A transformee’s arm.

He lay on the floor, about as far along in his changes as Karl had been at the end of the battle in Garden Court.

But his changes were just the start of this transformee’s troubles. The dark flesh at the end of the transformee’s bony forearms might have once ended in clawed hands, but they were long gone, dissolved away. His body was emaciated, and serpent-like beneath his wait. He lay coiled on the floor, his tail-body resting in separate chunks.

Flesh.

Gap.

Flesh.

Gap.

The gaps were inches or more, but each segment still quivered with life. It was like a dotted line in 3D. I’d seen enough transformee injuries to know that our changing bodies healed very quickly, sending out hyphae and haustoria to knit our wounds shut. But that wasn’t happening here. Something was interfering with the regeneration process. The segments were slowly melting, like wet oil paintings left out in the Sun. The many-colored liquid trickling down the transformee’s flanks were the same stuff that made up the creatures of shadow and mirage that had attacked us in Mr. Himichi’s dreams of the other Noyoko.

But this was real. It wasn’t in my mind.

Behind me, Suisei muttered in horror.

“No…”

Screaming in terror, Andalon fell to the floor and scrambled backward, desperate to get away.

I gasped and staggered back.

The transformee’s legs were shriveled sausage stubs, sliced into thick slabs, much like his tail. His head was a malignant flower, human skin and muscle lifting off his head and neck like sepals. He had six eyes, two on his temples, two in his ears, all of which were golden and glistening as they blinked in agitation. His tongue lolled on the floor, hanging along with his unhinged jaw.

Jonan inched forward, too afraid not to look.

“There’s something under his bed!” Jonan said.

Thickening my wyrmsight, I saw gossamer threads precipitate out of the air, only for them to immediately get sucked into the strangely thick darkness underneath the bed.

Darting out of the room, Suisei yelled. “Get out, both of you! Get everyone out of here, now!”

Panic spread like wind through trees.

Jonan squatted down in front of the bed, lowering himself to look, when a burst of spores fanned out from under the bed, covering Jonan from head to toe. His hazmat suit sizzled and bubbled. The sound was like butter on a griddle.

“Jonan!” I shouted. “Somebody get the rubbing alcohol!”

Dr. Derric rolled back and forth on the floor as he screamed.

I didn’t stop to think; I just acted. Whipping up a comb-shaped pataphysical weave, I enveloped Jonan with my power, which I used to flick off the spores and scatter them in a cloud that drifted toward the far wall.

A moment later, Heggy came running in brandishing two spray bottles’ worth of ethyl alcohol like a gunman at a shootout.

Waddling out of the way, I changed my weave from a comb to a smooth strip that I bent around Jonan’s legs in a horseshoe shape.

Latex scraped across vinyl as my magic pulled Jonan out of the room, into the doorway, leaving spore plumes in his wake. Jonan’s hazmat suit sizzled as it was eaten through by the spores.

“We need to get the spores off!” I yelled. “They’re corrosive!” I swiped my hands across his PPE, trying to clear away as many as I could. I padded plexuses around my hands to make my swipes like little broom strokes.

Out in the hallway, Heggy let loose, drenching Dr. Derric in twin streams of ethyl alcohol. The sizzling sounds coming off Jonan’s hazmat suit lessened.

Thank the Angel for basic chemistry!

Groaning, Jonan twisted about, shaking more spores free. As he turned, I saw tiny holes all across the latex. His hazmat suit looked almost moth-eaten.

“M-Mr. G-Genneth…” Andalon said. Her voice stumbled, utterly terrified.

Then I heard a sound, like a foghorn from the deep. I turned around just in time to see a creature claw out from under the bed.

The thing was a fever dream made flesh: a bipedal trumpet, with a body, slender forearms, and stiff tail all covered in tawny proto-feathers, many of which had fallen away. The trumpet’s horn was filled with flexible tendrils resembling cat-o'-nine-tails, topped by glowing fungal fruiting bodies. Dark spines stuck up from its tail. The fungus had replaced much of the once-drake’s flesh with darkly mottled greens and gray. It wore a blue harness on its back, like a saddle. The white text embroidered on the harness was still readable, despite the fungus’ encroachment.

I am a Guide Drake.

Please don’t pet me.

Something stirred beneath the decaying harness. The harness’ synthetic fibers snapped as the underlying flesh cracked, popped, and unfolded, lifting up and back like beetle’s elytra. Dark membranes opened to either side.

Something in my gut told me they were wings.

Like the transformee, the once-dinosaur was also melting, but its case was more… advanced. The wing membranes rose upward as they melted, turning into half-gaseous prominences aflame in many colors.

It was just like the horrors from the kaiju’s memories.

The oozing meltingness surrounding the partitioned transformee rose up from his body in multiple trails. The trails spiraled around one another as they leapt onto the drake and merged into it. Suddenly, the transformee went silent, his quivering ceasing. His mutant flesh began to shrivel and gray. In a moment, he was a crumbling, mummified husk.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

I tugged on the plexus sheet still wrapped around Jonan, yanked him the rest of the way out into the hallway way as I turned and ran. The sounds of the drake’s talons scraping along the vinyl told me how little time I had to act.

I waved my arm, skidding Jonan across the floor like a tossed stone. Without a moment to lose, I whipped up several new plexuses, one to safely slow Dr. Derric’s slide to a stop, the others to bolster my legs, speed, and balance as I started up in a run.

I glanced over my shoulder just in time to see the trumpet-drake leap out of the doorway, onto the hallway wall, which it bounced off with a kick of one of its massive toe-claws.

It let loose another stream of acid spore breath as it spread its wings mid-air. I was about to slow down time to figure out what to do when something tackled me from the side, smashing me onto the vinyl, face first, flopping around as I skidded to a stop, sliding underneath the stream of spore-breath.

I saw Suisei’s face as I pushed myself up from the ground with psychically boosted thrusts of my arms.

He must have been the one to tackle me.

I watched through my wyrmsight in astonishment as Suisei’s ever-present snow-motes vanished.

He’d just taken down his spore-deterring barrier.

“What are you doing?!” I yelled. “You’ll get infected!”

The drake landed further down the hall, punching a hole in its own spore cloud. The monster stared us down, with an acid-dipped snarl. It beat its impossible, flame-melting wings. Alien muscles twitched in its throat, launching rasping, fang-studded tendrils out from the trumpet’s core. The mutant drake raked a toe claw on the sizzling furrow its spore-breath had melted into the vinyl. The diffusing spore-cloud glistening like stars beneath the hallway’s fluorescent lights.

Everyone who could run out of the lobby had done so, screaming in terror.

“Run!” Suisei shouted. “Get away! Hurry!”

It was just like Kléothag’s words.

I watched, awestruck, as Suisei raised an outstretched palm. Suddenly, from all across the room, the spores flowed toward Suisei, gathering into a green tempest that whipped just inches above us. Pataphysical energies crackled like lightning on the spore-whirl.

The drake turned its head to face the whirlwind, moving so quickly, I could hear its fungus-eaten vertebrae snap to pieces.

Suisei threw the whorl of power down the hall. The beast leapt after the tempest.

“Help me!” Jonan yelled. “Get it off me! Get it off me!”

I rushed to help him, only for Suisei to cut me off. Green spores burnished the edge of Dr. Horosha’s PPE.

A nurse dashed by and helped Jonan to his feet, limping off as quickly as they could.

“Genneth,” Suisei said, sternly, “whatever you did to the hallway… ‘turning’ it?” He coughed. “You need to do the same to this creature.” He pointed at the monster. “Now!” he yelled.

“Can do!” I said.

“The fuck!?” Heggy screamed.

She dropped her spray bottles and pulled out a pistol.

I looked back to see her standing off to the side, staring at Dr. Horosha in shock.

Not seeing Andalon at my side, I looked around… but I couldn’t find her.

“Andalon,” I yelled, “where are you!?”

I begged you not to open it!

Her voice whispered in my thoughts. She was crying in terror, struggling to speak through the tears.

It makes monsters! Horrible, horrible monsters!

She was afraid…

“Remember, Andalon!” I yelled, not caring who heard. “Remember to be brave! You can do it! You did it before! We need you! I need you! Lend me your power!”

“Heggy!” Vernon yelled. “Stop!”

Turning in surprise, I saw Vernon lunge out of his chair and shove his sister out of the way. They were wrestling over a gun.

“Get out of here, Vern!” Heggy said.

Andalon appeared in front of me, hovering midair, staring at me with her big, blue eyes.

“We can do it,” she whispered.

“Dammit, Heggy, I’m infected!” Vernon yelled. “I’m dying! Save yourself!”

The drake let out a howl, and then charged. Bullets bit into its flesh, fired from the barrel of Vernon’s gun. He stepped toward it as he fired shot after shot.

“Come at me, asshole!” the General yelled. “No one else is gonna die because of me!”

The drake charged at Vernon, and Andalon’s hair and eyes began to glow.

As did I.

Once again, my body ignited with &alon’s power. A nimbus of pale fire swirled around me, visible to all who looked.

In the middle of the crowd, my eyes found another’s. We locked gazes, Ani and I. It was just for an instant, but it was more than enough. Ani stared at me in sacred wonder, and I stared back, watching my luminous silhouette flicker in her eyes.

Power sandblasted through my veins, whipping my nerves with agony.

With a shriek, the drake beat its burning wings and pounced, gliding toward Vernon. It dug its claws into his torso as it impacted him, knocking both of them onto the floor.

“Vernon!” Heggy screamed.

I stuck out my arms and opened the floodgates, blasting the pale fire at the beast with everything I had.

Vernon and the drake rolled across the floor. He managed to land a kick on the horror, knocking it off his body, though leaving a trail of his own, infected blood smeared across the vinyl.

I swerved my magic toward the monster. The miracle made an indescribable sound as it struck. The pale flames ensnared the drake, and then circled back and back, round and round, in rings of orbiting plasm.

Once again, the pain dissipated as &alon’s power left me. I fell to my knees, and then flopped forward onto all fours, drained of strength. Craning my neck, I looked up and watched, awed, as the space within the swirling fire-cage began to twist and fracture. It kaleidoscoped onto itself, making a sound like stone against stone. The fractured space siphoned away the drake’s mirage-aura. The many colors lashed out, as if in anger, before the fractured space rotated back into place, taking the aura with it.

And it all happened while the drake’s body was hurtling through the air.

The orbiting trails lost their radiance the instant the pieces of the shattered air fell back into place. The pale fire faded, disappearing as it fell away. Then the drake’s momentum finished what it had started, slamming the creature onto the floor with a thud, skidding to a stop not far behind me, leaving streaks of ash in its wake. Color and motion rapidly drained away. In seconds, the drake crumbled into gray debris like chunks of ash.

“Vernon!” Heggy yelled.

“Somebody help him!” Ani shouted.

The General flailed where he lay on the floor, coughing up blood and ooze.

A thousand thoughts and feelings rushed through me, but one rose up and crushed the rest: the need to feed. An emptiness cried from within me, yearning to be filled.

I want to say that at that moment, I wasn’t in control of myself, just like I had been with Lt. Colonel Kaplan, but that would be a lie. I knew exactly what I was going to do.

I was tired of fighting it, especially when there were far greater battles to be fought.

So I gave in.

I stumbled on my toward Vernon’s struggling form, wrangling my helmet with my hands as I fumbled for the release valve.

Voices yelled in fear.

“Genneth, no!”

Heggy stared at me, true terror in her eyes.

The helmet came free with a pop and a hiss. Dry, stiflingly sweet air rushed in.

I flashed my eyes at Heggy and Ani and yelled. “Stay away!”

Green, spore-rich drool trickled over my lips as I beheld my meal, sizzling where it fell onto the floor.

But old habits died hard. I leaned forward, I wondered if my tears were green, as well.

Vernon looked up at me as he fell beneath my shadow. I saw the fear of God in his eyes. The patch of latex and flesh on his chest where the drake had struck had crumbled to ash. I whisked it away with a wave of psychokinesis. The raw flesh beneath it was beautiful: rich with fungus for me to consume.

“I’m sorry, General,” I said. “I hope you can forgive me.” I then muttered under my breath: “Itadakimasu.”

And then, I ate.

I was like a newborn ghoul as I tore into Vernon Marteneiss’ flesh. I was all fingers and teeth; our hazmat suits were just the plastic packaging. My gloves melted as I licked them away, freeing my claws to slice through the black latex, starting with the corroded spot in the middle of Vernon’s torso.

His skin came off like wet paper, revealing the sweat meat underneath. The fungus had cooked it to perfection. His bones were savory pastry sticks with a soft, buttery crunch. After so much time with my head in a helmet, the feeling of cold, wet against my sweat-soaked face was invigorating. I swear, it made my skin tingle.

Vernon’s tendons were like salted jerky wrapped in seaweed. Arm-sized fungal filaments grew beneath his skin. They wriggled in my gullet as I slurped them down. I ate and ate, and kept eating, until the void was filled to the brim. But I was respectful. I ate every piece, every morsel. I lapped up every drop of tainted blood, licking the floor clean. I even ate the packaging.

I finished, sated beyond belief. My revulsion took over, as did my guilt.

But I could beat myself up later.

As soon as they were, my revulsion took over, and I could feed no longer. But the revulsion did not last.

The changes came quickly. Sensations crawled throughout my body as I changed. I grew. Bigger. Longer. Blessèd relief rushed over me as my tail burst free from its confines. I stretched it long and flexed it about, channeling all the purpose and feeling my legs no longer had.

It was liberating.

Latex split, my leggings popping open. Cool, dry air rushed in, caressing me, as if my whole body was drawing in breath. My claws sent up sparks as I raked furrows in the vinyl.

My hazmat suit fell away; I was a serpent, shedding his skin. All the while, my colleagues watched on, beholding the monster I’d already become.

Gochisōsamadeshita.