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WARNING:  Contains scenes of an "Adult" nature!

Chapter 2

            Soft moans of womanly pleasure enveloped the night air, taunting the alert ears of Norman Salazar. He leaned out over the balcony of his St. Martial penthouse letting the cool sea breeze massage over his nude body. Gripping a bottle of whiskey casually in his right hand he sighed. Overlooking the Isles’ many casinos his mind was turned from the actions going on in his dwelling, feeling guilty about what was happening. With his true love back in the arms of her lover, he thought he might finally put her out of his mind and return to his life, if it had not been for that accursed day when he first laid eyes upon her at Pocket D’s nightclub. The multicolored lights from the casinos dimly set his skin aglow in the late night. Or was it early morning now?  He was not sure. High above the streets, the eyes of the Protector remained narrowed and focused below seeking out distraction.

            Norman did not have any idea how long he had been out in the night air experiencing the pleasure of timelessness. He brought the bottle up to his lips and fought what would be only the second swig of the night. Witnessing the destructive effects of alcohol on someone whom he only now considered a close friend, the banes of drowning his depression in a brown liquid loomed over him. Brian Sutter had been long gone and being stronger than his friend the drink only warmed in his hand. There was only one solution and that was ignoring the promises of chemically induced ignorant bliss. He literally had too many holes in his memories as it was and did not want to end up like Brian. He was not surprised when he suddenly sensed a familiar presence nearby.

            “You’re late,” Norman said to the intruder assuming the presence was whom he had been expecting for some time now.

            “Very good, brother,” a disembodied voice responded. “Your abilities and senses are indeed growing.”

            “As you said they would,” Norman replied turning to the shadows and watching the drake, whom he nicknamed Ock, coalesce from the darkness. He was almost as naked as the Protector was if it were not for the half-dragon’s kilt.

            The clone of a Paragon City hero stepped into the illuminating glow of neon hearing the intensifying cries of pleasure.

            “Not interrupting, am I?”

            “Nah, just another Protector and her…,” Norman searched for the correct word, “plaything. Some Carnie woman this time.”

            “Have you always made such use of your spare time?”

            “Once, long ago,” Norman said looking into darkened master bedroom watching Claire’s caramel naked skin glow from the scented candles. The two women were grinding on each other now. Protector’s were not necessarily shunned from fraternization inside their ranks, but all participating members knew they could be removed from duty if issues arose. He and Claire had seemed to click and both approached sex as something to pass the time. Neither ever got romantically involved. Norman was sure when it came to emotions she was colder than the South Pole. She was one of the most vengeful mean-spirited persons he knew. She may even be more fiercely loyal to Arachnos than even he may.

            “Therein brings us to why you summoned me,” Ock said.

            Norman noticed a cooler breeze blowing, but that is not why he shivered slightly. Nudity had never really bothered him too much, but since his… acquaintance with Ock, he too found himself considering clothing restrictive, especially during fights. Probably due to the fact, that most ancient drakes battled in the nude. Both he and the drake shared this bond. Ock was the exact clone of the hero Occam’s Razar and Norman had been subjected with gene therapy from the same hero, well, actually two heroes. The other DNA was from another hero named PhoenixHawk. Which hero had the most influence on him with his science-imbued powers remained to be seen?

            Occam’s Razar was a drake, the half-dragon son of Grendel. He lived at least over fifteen thousands years ago, but from recent Discovery channel specials, some scientists think maybe well over twenty thousand years. He had met and fought alongside the ancient warrior, who had been found buried in the ice near the Arctic Circle. Norman found him righteous and saintly. The drake exuded so much compassion it made him feel sick. While he admired the martyrdom, sense of duty, and compassion of the half-dragon he decided he did not like him so very much.

            Norman again fought against the urge to take a long drink. It began to annoy him, the incessant temptation the liquor had. When he first learned of Ock, working alongside the last of the Saurian gods and operating within the Rogue Isles he set out to capture the half-dragon. What he found surprised him. Ock was more down to earth and ruthless, then his brother. He had chased him for several weeks before the clone set a trap and confronted him. It was then they made a pact.

            Technically, Norman became a drake because of the gene therapy, but that did not matter to the Fates. Scientists had discovered that .01% of all mutants are actually drakes. The human DNA that mutates and gives them their powers is in affect dragon DNA. These pieces of genetic code act like mutant genes in humans when powers develop. It does get more complex, because if an individual is actually a mutant as well, the dragon DNA will alter the mutation further changing the evolutionary path of the individual.

            Ock strolling gracefully across the patio and silently slid the doors shut. Norman brought the bottle up to his lips taking a sip, just enough to wet his lips.  

            A drake is what Norman was since he joined the protector program, a science induced mutant drake that looked human. Arachnos had stolen Crey Biotech’s DNA technology and launched their own Protector program modeling it from Crey’s Paragon Protectors. Norman simply had been injected with PhoenixHawk genes, and boosted with the one vial of dragon DNA, specifically Occam’s Razar. While the exact chains of events were lost to the Rogue Isle Protector, he acquired the abilities of PhoenixHawk and then the dragon genes mutated it even further. The result being he had acquired his fire control ability. PhoenixHawk also possessed a form of energy manipulation and some form of fire resistance. Norman ultimately gained the ability to control fire, but because of the dragon DNA mutating PhoenixHawk’s powers, he lost any immunity from that fire. Norman would later come to realize his true powers were heat control with fire seeming more of a secondary ability.

            Ock stared into Norman’s blue and brown heterochromia eyes, a side effect from the Protector transformation process. PhoenixHawk’s eyes glowed green masking their true color. Norman’s would glow green identically, but only when he was using his powers. Nonetheless, in the darkness, Ock could make out the slight persistent glow, but just barely.

            “What you spoke of can be done. I can show you self-meditations that you’ll eventually come to remember,” Ock said.

            “Huh?” Norman questioned raising an eyebrow.

            “Because you are a drake, these meditations will eventually open your mind to our genetic memories. You’ll come to realize you knew how to perform them all along. I have memories of my childhood with my father, though I am but a clone grown in a chamber. These self-meditations do have limits though.”

            Norman reached out for his black bathrobe and put it on tying the belt with a simple knot leaving the near full bottle of whiskey on the table. His mind opened like a steel trap ready to capture what it was hunting. Genetic memories sounded intriguing. What secrets lay hidden encoded from an extinct species gene?

            “Crey,” Ock continued, “Has definitely done work in memory research and the brain, but with limited success.”

            “Really…” Norman said. “They are quite skilled in mind wiping and brain washing. Arachnos was been working to acquire that technology.” Paragon Protectors were genetically constructed to be loyal with no real free will. Arachnos did one better and carefully chose those candidates most loyal. Those selected were given gene therapy from mutants.
            “True. Crey by technological standards has been successful, but you will remember what not only may have been forgotten, but what you never experienced. Meditation will reveal to you what happened, but in symbolism and innuendos. It could take years if not a lifetime to understand what was revealed. Plus, you’re familiar with the pitfall of human memories anyway.”

            “Yes,” Norman responded, “very subjective.”
            “I know you won’t settle for vague feelings or incorrect, misinterpreted events.”

            Norman nodded staring down at his patio floor his mind trying to work through what could be his next step.

            “That leaves you with one other possibility.”

            “Time travel,” Norman stated flatly locking his sight with the drakes. With the magical and technological portals Arachnos had been activating he had decided to brush up on the subject. Portal Corps in Paragon City opened a true Pandora’s Box, one they had not even realized yet. Any true villainous organization worth its salt was stealing their components and blueprints to make their own travel conduits.

            “No. Well, not exactly. Magic holds a solution to your memory problem too. One not well researched in the present. You already have taken part in a similar ceremony. The spell allows a person to enter the thoughts in a pseudo-memory pseudo-time travel experience. A person can travel through the host’s memories, including genetic memories, and will actually experience the events beyond the host’s perspective. It’s like individually spawned time travel revolving around the host’s reality.”

            Johnny Sonata,” Norman exclaimed remembering what sounded like a similar technique he used to save the famous singer’s soul from the demonic Wailers.

            “Indeed,” Ock responded bringing his hands together and bowing in recognition. “Your keen insight serves our kind well.”

            Norman sneered. He just could not think get used to thinking himself as a drake, though in principle that is exactly what he was.

            Norman swallowed, “Do you think my love for Thauma is real?” Everything he was doing revolved around finding a solution to that question.

            Ock paused pondering his words, “Real? Real as the earth under your feet. Real as water being wet. I believe question you meant to ask is--is it fair?”

            Norman held his breath waiting for the answer.

            “No. The process you undertook must have merged everything. I am not completely familiar with science and technology of this age, but you are still like children let loose upon each other with sharp blades. Thauma Guard and PhoenixHawk evidently not only experience true love, but must be soul mates as well.”

            “Yes,” Norman said feeling hope dying in the fires he controlled. “That is evident, their love for each reached beyond the grave.”

            “But your love,” he paused, “your feeling is probably that and something else.”

            “Like what?” Norman stirred the ashes in his soul.

            Ock shrugged, ever the mystic of enigmas like his brother. Norman realized that Ock and Razar were more alike than he thought.

            “Well, Johnny owes me a favor,” Norman said rushing into his bedroom to gather his uniform. Claire and her partner were reaching a massive crescendo together moaning and thriving in unison. The Carnie was almost screaming now laying enveloped underneath her partner.

            “Where… are… you… going?” Claire gasped stealing each breath from the pleasure of writhing on top her partner. Both women’s legs were interlocked with the other. Each thrust was growing stronger and more powerful than the one before it.

            “A personal matter has arisen and it requires my immediate attention,” Norman said trying not to notice Claire’s eyes rolling in the back of her head. She and the Carnie let out a massive moan together collapsing in a quivering whimpering mound of curved naked flesh.

            He was gone before Claire could gather her senses or start round four. For the first time in his life, that he could remember, he actual felt dirty. Unfortunately, for him a shower would not get him clean. The unattainable image of a black-skinned orange-haired beauty haunted his guilty conscious. Could it be the inherited genetic memory ability of drakes intermixed with his human genes and the feelings for her were PhoenixHawk’s? Their loved reached beyond the grave. Genetic, real or something else; what he felt for her hurt nonetheless. He was convinced that the abyss of nothing in his soul offered real answers.

TO CHAPTER 3 >






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