"It was really so good to see you, Sister Gremory," Bune said. The dragon butler had finally regained his composure, standing tall and looking almost lustrous, his scales shimmering in the ambient light.

  "Of course," Gremory replied, her voice smooth once more. "It is so wonderful to see you looking healthy and... clean." She smoothed her silk gown, looking composed as if she hadn't been trolled by a human in a leopard onesie just minutes ago.

  Zac smiled and looked up at the two demons towering over him. They totally don't look related, he thought. I bet the 'sister' thing is just how Dukes and Duchesses talk. But... if they are... maybe there is a demon dragon with two humps out there. He was still hugging Bune, his mind wandering off while Bune's tail happily wagged and battered his side. Mmm, I will take as many humps as you can give me, camel-dragon-daddy.

  He suddenly shook his head. Wait, I can't just throw away my virginity now. It would cause Bune to relapse or something. And... Bune really has been so kind to me. Even if he kept the others from fucking me. And he didn't get me coffee. And he made me read a book. Zac’s frown deepened. Wait, why am I worried about the emotional well-being of a demon from Hell who is literally infinity times older than me?

  "I wont report that the new avatar is a virgin," Gremory continued, "for you, Bune. But I really must tell the Princes that Ose has finally done something useful for once."

  Bune looked nervous, wringing his hands. Zac muttered under his breath, "That lying pussy didn't do shit."

  Gremory looked down at Zac with an amused expression, her long lashes fluttering. "You are quite lucky my magic does not work on maidens, little human. Or else your outsides would be inside, and your insides would be on fire."

  Zac nodded sagely. "I keep asking the others to do stuff to my insides, but they are all prudes."

  Gremory cracked a smile as she looked around the war room. The unconscious demons were still sprawled on the floor in a heap of limbs and drool, and Marchosias was still face-down on the table, seemingly having given up on the day entirely.

  "Can I get your number?" Zac asked, finally loosening his hug on the dragon butler. "I need someone to gossip about all the hunky demons with."

  Gremory laughed, a rich, melodic sound like wind chimes in a desert breeze.

  "You really are Ose's chosen, aren't you?" Gremory giggled. "But it is best if we do not talk too much more. I'm already taking a risk by not turning you over to Belial."

  "Is Belial hot?" Zac asked instantly.

  Bune stiffened. "Zac, please do not ask such things. Belial is the Lowest King. Were you not listening when I told you that he was the first to follow Lucifer down?"

  Gremory smirked and shook her head. "It appears you will have your hands full with this one, Bune. It is a good thing you've always been so competent at multitasking." She leaned in and gave the dragon man a quick, chaste kiss on both of his heads' cheeks. "Farewell for now, brother."

  Gremory turned and swept out of the war room, her silk gown trailing behind her like a royal train.

  Bune stood frozen, slowly raising a hand to his Left Head's cheek. "Brother..." he said softly, a note of wonder in his voice.

  "Later, whore! I'll miss you!" Zac yelled, waving enthusiastically at the retreating Duchess.

  Bune looked down, horrified. "Do not call Duchess Gremory such things!"

  "She is the demon of maidens!" the Right Head hissed, quickly covering Zac's mouth with a clawed hand. "She is very much not a prostitute!"

  Zac shrugged off Bune's hand. "That's just how bad bitches like us part ways. It's only bad if you think it's bad. Do you think she's an actual slut or something?"

  Bune's two heads sputtered, frantically trying to deny he would ever think such a blasphemous thing.

  Oh, Bune, Zac thought, a fond smile spreading across his face. Are you even more pure than March? I can't believe it. In Hell for, uh, nearly all of existence, and you can't even call your own sister a gutter hooker. You're actually so fucking cute it's driving me mad.

  As if on queue, Zac noticed the wolf himself walk over.

  Marchosias looked around in disgust at the passed-out demons who were still foaming at the mouths. Their collective foam was beginning to converge into a concerningly large puddle on the war room floor, threatening the integrity of a dropped scroll.

  "I guess her magic didnt work on any of us huh," Zac said, looking between Bune and March. "Power maiden trio, am I right?"

  Marchosias sighed, pinching the bridge of his muzzle. "You are the only virgin. And if you were not, you would have died multiple times."

  Not sure that's possible, Zac thought, before his mind helpfully supplied images of Timon and Pumbaa, who had indeed died multiple times and were presumably fine.

  "But she kinda blasted the whole room with her magic," Zac murmured.

  "Well, as a Duke, I am resistant to magic of equal strength," Bune said, straightening his cuffs.

  "And as a dragon, I am naturally resistant to magic," his Right Head added, looking the slightest bit pleased with itself. "The lion and owl are Marquises, and the flying rat is only an Earl. Their resistance is... laughable."

  Before Zac could ask why they kept calling the hot eagle man mean names, Marchosias growled. "Bune, this place is a mess. There's white foam everywhere."

  "I wish you'd cover me in white foam," Zac said instinctively. He didn't even need to think about it; it was like a patellar reflex, but for his porn-melted brain.

  Marchosias stiffened and turned away from Zac, his ears twitching. "Clean this mess up, Bune."

  "Of course, Captain," Bune said happily. "But... the others are in the way. We might need to wait a bit until their souls recombobulate."

  "This day has already been too long," Marchosias growled. He took a deep breath, his chest expanding.

  "WAKE UP, YOU LEG-HUMPING HOMUNCULUSES!"

  The Command Voice slammed into the room like a physical shockwave, rattling the windows and sending dust falling from the ceiling.

  Andras, Nock, and Halphas twitched on the floor as if the stone had suddenly been electrified in the middle of an earthquake. Zac looked away; it was a bit too Japanese-ghost-horror coded for his western sensibilities.

  Nock sat up first. "Worooosow," the lion groaned, clutching his head. "What happened? Is my mane ok?" He suddenly reached up, frantically brushing his gauntleted hands through his thick, voluminous hair. "Oh, thank badness. Still fabulous."

  Andras's head turned 180 degrees from where he was seizing on the ground, his golden eyes snapping open. He let out a hooting groan of pain. "Next time I'll just rip her eyes out with my bare hands." He flapped his wings, causing his body to float up like a vampire emerging from its coffin. Zac thought it was a pretty badass move, but the backwards head undercut it a bit.

  Finally, Halphas stopped shuddering and coughed out a slice of bread. Zac tilted his head. Uhm, I thought he was on the paleo diet. That... uhm, ok.

  "Gremory disrupted the chain of command," the eagle coughed, spraying a few more breadcrumbs onto the floor, which instantly got soggy in the white foam drool mess that covered the ground. "She didn't even sign the guest log. How are we supposed to keep track of supplies if we don't know who has been in or out?"

  Zac eyed the demons, who were now standing groggily at attention as Marchosias stood before them with his arms crossed, looking like a disappointed father.

  "You ingrates are disgusting," the wolf growled. "You dare lift a finger against a Duchess?"

  "She said mean words to you!" Zac shouted before anyone could explain themselves. He marched over and stood next to the Captain, crossing his leopard-print arms. "We are Team March in this keep! Anyone who dares slander the try-hard wolfy deserves death!"

  The room went silent. All the demons stared at Zac.

  As Zac smiled and puffed out his leopard-print covered chest, the other demons all began to yell at once.

  "She was going to dirty fair Zachary with her filthy hands!" Nock yelled, smoothing his mane. "Did you see her nail polish? Vantablack! That was so last decade!"

  "It's my job to punish the new guy!" Halphas squawked, jabbing a thumb at his chest. "It says it right in the handbook! Page 6, paragraph 6, subsection 6!"

  "Goremaw has been acting off ever since the Avatar gave him belly scratches… I mean, scratched his belly… I mean, uh, cowered in fear from the evil power of my devilish warg!" Andras hooted defensively. "I can't prove that I'm a better dog dad if the leopard slut is dead!"

  The other demons changed their focus from Zac to Andras, staring at him in confusion.

  Andras looked around nervously, then down at the floor, before quickly lighting a cigarillo with a snap of his talons. "I just like killing people!" he declared, coughing on the smoke and trying to look cool. "Do you losers think I need a reason to attack someone?"

  "I don't care about any of your excuses!" March barked, silencing the room. "You know the rules."

  Bune nodded, straightening his cravat. "Even though we have a mission, you cannot just go and displease a Duke."

  The owl, lion, and eagle looked at each other for a beat, then burst into raucous, mocking laughter.

  "Shut up, Bune, you mega-pussaholic!" Halphas wheezed.

  Bune looked flustered, his heads twisting. "No, you are the... uhm... dumb... holic..."

  "SILENCE!" March howled.

  Zac smiled, leaning back against the war table. Oh, life is so good here. They deny it so hard, but this is totally a found family. I called it from the very beginning. They are going to get shipped in so many new and exciting ways. But March is still the dad. That’s never going to change. Mmm, Wolf Daddy is eternal.

  Marchosias rubbed his temples, his armor clinking. "You all are filthy, and you smell like complete ass." He turned his amber gaze to Halphas. "You will make sure everyone gets cleaned up and..." March’s eyes darted to Zac.

  Zac looked up at the eternal Wolf Daddy with a big, hopeful grin. "Yes daddy? I mean daddy… I mean daddy… I mean, Captain?"

  Marchosias’s tail stiffened so hard it looked painful, and he quickly looked away, his fur ruffling in agitation. "Halphas, make sure the Avatar is bathed. He has been in his uniform for days on end."

  The harpy eagle man suddenly stiffened, his wings snapping tight against his back. He gave a sharp military salute. "YES SIR!"

  Nock’s mane suddenly stood straight up like he went Super Saiyan. "YES! BATH TIME WITH THE AVATAR!" he roared, throwing his arms wide. "IT IS FINALLY TIME FOR THE BATH BOMBS!"

  The room went quiet, save for the lion man's happy purr, which vibrated him so much his armor chattered like teeth.

  "You all are so fucking unbearably incompetent," March said softly, "if I was not dead, I would want to be." He turned and began walking back to the table.

  Zac reached out for the angry wolfman. "But you're dirty too! Why don't you join us? I'll even wash your back... and your front... especially your front..."

  Zac’s eyes glazed over as he fantasized about March in a bubble bath where the bubbles just kept popping, slowly revealing the very crystal-clear water that Zac could see right through to the wolf's furry lower belly.

  He snapped out of his vivid daydream as he felt himself being lifted off the ground. Halphas was holding him by the waist, grinning.

  "Don't you dare summon a towel this time," Zac hissed.

  "What are you talking about?" Halphas questioned, tilting his head. "We all need towels after to dry off. Come on, new guy, have you never taken a bath before?" He looked over his shoulder at Nock and Andras. "Come on, you two. Orders are orders."

  "I'll pass," Andras said, trying to disappear into the shadows behind a suit of armor.

  Nock grabbed him by the tail of his greatcoat. "DON'T RUIN THIS FOR ME!" The lion suddenly sprinted out the door, dragging the now-hooting owl behind him across the floor. "BATH TIME! BATH TIME! CLEANLINESS IS NEXT TO... NEXT TO DEVILISHLY HANDSOMENESS!"

  Zac smiled as he watched them go. "Oh, ok. Take me away, Halphas. I wanted this to be a whole family affair, but I guess having an affair with the fun gay uncles is good too."

  "What?"

  "Just go," Zac said, patting the eagle's bicep. "I'll explain our new family wincest tree on the way."

  Zac waved at Bune as he was carried out of the door.

  "If you dare defile the Avatar, we will be eating squab," Bune said sternly, his eyes narrowed as he watched them leave. "I will be able to tell faster than any holy wards in the city ever could."

  "And you will not enjoy being digested," the Right Head added, licking its chops. "I masticate very thoroughly."

  Before Zac could ask if that's why Bune rejected soft vore all those days ago, another shout rang out in the war room.

  "NOOO! I WANT BATH TIME TOO!"

  Zac twisted in Halphas's grip to see Skarg rolling around on the floor. Although he had finally freed his mouth from the muzzle, the caribou demon was still hopelessly entangled in Gremory's golden rings, looking like a fancy demonic dinner napkin.

  Marchosias stood over the raging reindeer, veins bulging in his neck. "YOU'RE THE REASON THERE IS EVEN A MESS HERE! HOW MANY TIMES DID I SAY LOCK DOWN?! WHY DO YOU NEVER LISTEN?!"

  Zac felt a pang of genuine guilt for the himbo stag. Skarg had been the MVP of the "Protect the Human" squad since day one. He was the first to throw hands when Gremory got hostile, the first to body-slam the breakfast imps, and the first to loudly and proudly proclaim he was down to fuck. Hell, he was even the first to successfully massage Zac’s prostate via remote dream connection… a feat of magical engineering that deserved an award. Even the jailbreak from the library lessons for a lunch date, while chaotic, had been sweet in a caveman-abduction sort of way.

  However, Zac also really, really enjoyed watching Marchosias go full Alpha. The vein popping in the wolf’s neck? The commanding shout? It did things to Zac’s insides that coffee never could. So, he didn't speak up.

  Ugh, if only those two could get along, Zac thought as Halphas carried him down the hall. Silver fire and hellish ice. It’s such a badass combination. Isn't that the usual enemies-to-friends pairing in these types of scenarios? Opposites attract, or at least put aside their differences for the vulnerable main character?

  As the stone corridor blurred past, Zac’s eyes glazed over. The torchlight stretched into neon beams, and the gothic architecture dissolved into a stylized, cel-shaded cityscape.

  Cue the synth-pop intro music.

  Suddenly, Skarg wasn't a furry demon being yelled at by his boss. He was sliding into the scene on a massive, conjured ice-bridge, his body transformed into a living sculpture of organic, translucent frozen diamond. He was sleek, he was angular, and his pecs looked sharp enough to cut glass. He struck a pose, snowflakes sparkling off his chiseled abs.

  "Chill out, evil-doers!" Fantasy-Skarg announced with a cheesy grin.

  And there was Marchosias. But he wasn't in a uniform. He was soaring through the air, engulfed in a radiant aura of microwave energy and silver fire, wearing a tight yellow bodysuit with a fiery mask that did absolutely nothing to hide his identity but did wonders for his glutes. He landed next to Skarg, striking a back-to-back pose.

  "Things are heating up!" March declared, his paws igniting.

  And then there was Zac. He looked down at himself. He was squeezed into a skin-tight red and blue spandex suit, complete with a stylized Arachne-Weaver symbol on his chest and a full face mask with big white eyes.

  Zac-Man and his Amazing Friends! the announcer's voice boomed in his head.

  "Look out, Zac-Man!" Skarg shouted as a group of generic, poorly animated angel criminals tried to steal an expensive set of demonic pentagram jewlery.

  "I got this, boys!" Zac quipped, shooting a web that was actually just a sticky rope of pure charisma. "Don't get your halos in a twist!"

  Skarg blasted them with an ice beam. Marchosias blasted them with a fire beam. The villains exploded into smoke. The day was saved in totally radical 80s fashion.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  The three heroes stood atop a skyscraper as the sun set.

  "Great work, team," Marchosias said, hands on his hips.

  "Yeah," Skarg agreed, melting his ice form just enough to look glistening and wet. "We really pounded them."

  "Speaking of pounding," Zac said, leaning against the chimney and peeling off his mask to reveal perfectly coiffed hair. "fighting crime is stressful. I bet you guys are tense. Why don't we go back to the secret base so I can give you both a massage... with happy endings?"

  The synth music swelled to a crescendo-

  "New guy? You drooling again?"

  Zac blinked, the neon city vanishing as Halphas jostled him. They were standing in front of a massive pair of steam-shrouded doors. The fantasy popped like a soap bubble, leaving Zac with only the lingering image of Marchosias in yellow spandex.

  "A massage would be nice," Zac murmured, wiping his chin.

  Halphas laughed, a sharp sound that echoed in the humid corridor. "Sorry, Avatar, but I've heard you have a hair trigger. Don't want to get accused of defiling you just because you blow your load if I rub your shoulders."

  The eagle booted the massive door open with a solid thud.

  Zac blinked as a wall of hot, white steam billowed out, momentarily blinding him. "Wow, Nock must have turned all the taps on alre-"

  Zac’s mind slowed to a halt. He expected the normal bathroom, the one with the high-pressure showers and the marble sinks where he had brushed his teeth and taken his panic poop. What he saw was not that.

  The room was vast, an echoing cavern of black marble and heated stone. Rows of fluted columns marched into the misty distance, supporting a vaulted ceiling painted with scenes of glorious, bloody conquest. In the center lay a pool the size of an Olympic swimming pool, the water bubbling and steaming, fed by the open mouths of stone wolves along the walls. Stone benches lined the perimeter, heated from within, and the air smelled of eucalyptus and sulfur. It was a masterpiece of Roman engineering, corrupted and perfected by infernal hands.

  "Oh wow," Zac said as Halphas set him down on the warm tiles. "Are we sure March wasn't a frat wolf? This place would be killer for jacuzzi parties."

  Zac’s mind quickly slid off the deep end. He imagined the cavernous room filled with oiled-up demons wearing swim trunks (or nothing at all), batting beach balls around while some funky summer tunes echoed off the marble. March in sunglasses holding a red solo cup...

  "Oh, this is the caldarium," Halphas said, casually taking off his camo-patterned military cap and hanging it on a bronze hook by the door. He began to unbutton his shirt. "If you wanted a massage, the tepidarium is over that way."

  "Tepid-what-now?" Zac murmured, distracted by the sight of feathers and muscle. He reached down to test the water, his finger inching toward the bubbling surface.

  Before he could touch it, he was swept up into the air once more.

  "Hold your horses," Halphas cawed, effortlessly hoisting Zac away from the pool. "You haven't even scrubbed yourself down yet. You can't just get in the bath all dirty."

  Zac looked dismissive, dangling in the eagle’s grip. "Baths are for getting clean. But if you want to scrub my back... and my fro-"

  "The caldarium is for relaxing your muscles and contemplation," the eagle sighed, shaking his head. "I guess you really have never taken a proper bath before, have you?"

  Zac looked confused. "Sorry, I just didn't think this was going to be like one of those sports anime bath scenes where the characters all sit naked with buckets and brushes in a tiled room before they get to kick back in the hot tub. I'm an American. We just dive right in."

  "Gross," was all Halphas said as he carried Zac toward one of the smaller arched openings that led away from the main massive hot pool.

  Zac peered into the different arched doorways as they passed. To his left, he saw a massive, open-air swimming pool where the water was so still it looked like glass, reflecting the red sky above. Further down, he caught a glimpse of a dry, intensely hot room where a blast of hot air rushed out like the opening of a blast furnace. Past that, a room filled with small pools covered in thin layers of ice radiated a chill that made his nose twitch.

  They finally stopped in a long, rectangular room lined with stone benches and small, recessed cubbies carved into the walls. The air here was warm and smelled of cedar.

  "Get that sweaty uniform off, Avatar," Halphas said, gesturing to the cubbies. "You can just toss it in any of the niches. One of Buney-boy's servants will come by eventually to take care of it."

  Zac looked up with a wide, blinding smile. "I'm totally naked underneath. I never got any demonic undies."

  "Well, that's good," Halphas said, unbuttoning his shirt. "I'd imagine they would be quite crusty at this point if you haven't changed in days."

  Zac was too distracted to respond. He watched, mesmerizingly, as Halphas began to strip out of his sharp military uniform. The eagle demon’s arms were dense, corded with muscle and dusted with fine feathers that shifted as he moved.

  In Zac’s mind, the changing room was suddenly bathed in a soft, pink glow. Time slowed to a crawl. He watched the fabric of the shirt stretch across Halphas's broad back as he pulled it over his head.

  Tank top daddy, Zac thought, practically vibrating. Do eagles sweat? I bet that shirt smells so fucking manly it would knock me out.

  "Did you say something?" Halphas asked, glancing over as he tossed his shirt into a niche.

  Oh shit, did I say that out loud? Zac still couldn't stop himself from staring as Halphas's talons worked the buckle of his heavy leather belt.

  "Yeah, you did," Halphas laughed, the sound echoing off the stone. "Hurry up. I'm hoping we can get a bit of time in the palaestra before we get cleaned up."

  "I might need some help," Zac murmured, turning around and feigning a desperate reach toward the small of his back. "I can't reach my zipper."

  "Your zipper is in front," Halphas said flatly.

  "I want to be unzipped," Zac said flatly.

  Halphas snorted, shaking his head. "Fine, fine. But only if you join me in the palaestra and play with some balls before we bathe together."

  "I would play with your balls anywhere, anytime!" Zac loudly declared, spinning back around.

  Halphas nodded, a smirk playing on his beak. "Good to know. I'll be sure to remember that." He snapped his fingers.

  Zac waited for the poof of smoke, the magical effect, something. He turned toward the doorway, expecting a spectral valet. Nothing.

  But when he turned back, a lesser demon was standing right next to Halphas, snapping a crisp salute. It was a much smaller bird-man, short and scrappy with grey feathers and its neck feathers were oddly reflecting purple and green light, wearing a slightly oversized recruit’s uniform.

  "Remember, Private," Halphas said, his voice dropping into a drill instructor growl that made Zac shiver. "If you touch the Avatar's privates, it's a quick and fiery death for you."

  "YES SIR!" the smaller bird demon squawked, his chest puffed out.

  Zac frowned. He wasn't much of an ornithologist, but whatever this bird demon was, he was much less sexy than a harpy eagle man. He looked a bit too much like an actual bird, twitchy and bobbing his head. And, Zac shuddered, he looked thin, like a... twink.

  The little pigeon demon rushed up to Zac, practically vibrating with nervous energy. "Hello sir! Private Cher Ami reporting for duty! I'm here to assist you! What are your orders?!"

  Zac sighed, looking down at the bird. "Can you take some bird growth hormones real quick and maybe be a bit taller than me?"

  Private Ami looked quite confused, his head bobbing nervously. He glanced back at Halphas for guidance, but the eagle just shrugged, already busy removing his socks.

  "Uhm, I'm sorry sir, but I don't think that's something I can do," the lesser demon's voice quavered nervously. "But I can try very hard if that's what pleases you!"

  Zac just shook his head. "Nevermind, buddy. I know the feeling. I thought about getting leg-shortening surgery when I was alive so I could be more pocket-sized."

  Both birds looked at each other with great concern.

  By the time Zac exited the changing room, he was wrapped in a long white towel that Ami had helpfully tied for him. He stood proudly, striking a pose in his makeshift toga. He had hoped to be fully buff around the demons, but he supposed if he wasn't wearing anything, he couldn't take anything off when he inevitably lost at strip-balls or whatever Halphas had planned.

  "So how long have you been working for Halphas?" Zac asked the small bird demon, who was now leading him down a steamy corridor.

  "Forever!" the private said sharply, saluting the air.

  "And you're still a private?" Zac mused. "Do you just suck or something?"

  The demon slouched, his feathers drooping. He pointed silently into a massive, sand-filled room. "This is the palaestra, sir."

  The palaestra was vast, a sand-filled arena surrounded by colonnades where other demons were practicing swordplay, wrestling, and lifting heavy stones. It smelled of sweat, dust, and raw effort.

  Zac frowned. Of fucking course it's the gym.

  Halphas spotted him immediately and rushed over, ushering him into the room before Zac could even think about bolting. "Come on, Zac!" the eagle said happily, clapping a massive hand on Zac's shoulder. "You told me you wanted to get whipped into shape!"

  Zac winced. He did, indeed, let those vulgar words slip from his mouth during his disastrous two-mile "run". But thinking about how much his legs still hurt, dull, throbbing aches that radiated from his calves to his glutes, he was already starting to have second, third, fourth, and fifth thoughts.

  "It's always good to work up a sweat before bathing," Halphas explained, practically bouncing on his toes. "Gets those impurities out of you and it lets the hot water relax the muscles."

  "But working out blows so much," Zac whined, trying to dig his heels into the sand.

  Halphas leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Andras said you nearly collapsed after only a few minutes of getting railed."

  Oh god damn it, Zac thought, his face flushing hot. He just had to go and hit me where it hurts. My pride as a power-bottom.

  Zac gave Halphas serious side-eye. Well, at least he's in a toga too, he reasoned, eyeing the way the white fabric draped over the eagle’s muscular frame. Mmmm, maybe I'll get to see up his skirt if playing with our balls gets a bit competitive.

  "Fine," Zac finally conceded, crossing his arms. "Show me your balls."

  "Oh, we only need one ball," Halphas said cheerfully. He snapped his fingers, and with a puff of smoke, a follis appeared in his hand, a large, inflated leather ball, roughly the size of a basketball but softer. "Since you're so weak and fragile, we can just play a bit of Ourania."

  Zac nodded confidently. "It's been a while since I played RuneScape, but I'm pretty good at clicking runes."

  Private Ami practically had to drag Zac out of the hellish gym. The game of Ourania had been surprisingly familiar, basically just a variation of Jackpot where one player would hurl the ball into the stratosphere and everyone else scrambled to catch it as it fell back down to earth... or hell. But it had been so long since Zac needed to use any sort of hand-eye coordination that didn't involve a touchscreen that he was left winded, tired, and covered in sand.

  Halphas had decided to stay behind and work out a bit more so he could get his own, much more developed muscles properly straining before he bathed, leaving Zac in the apparently capable hands of a lesser officer who had been a private for... ever. It did not give Zac much confidence in the skinny bird's abilities.

  "Are you sure you're not the one who should take bird growth hormone?" Ami asked as he half-dragged the human down the corridor toward a new room.

  "Fuck you," Zac wheezed.

  The lesser demon looked a bit smug, his head bobbing. "No. I'm under strict orders to not do exactly that."

  Zac looked over, offended. "Well I'm not into you either, so we don't have to worry about that."

  "Good."

  "Good!"

  "GOOD!" they kept saying back and forth until Zac found himself pushed into a tiled shower room.

  Zac tried to shoo away the private so he could wash off his sandy, sweat-drenched body, but found he was denied any privacy from the Private.

  "I'm to make sure you're clean," the bird-man said, rolling up his uniform sleeves.

  "Fine," Zac sighed, leaning against the wall. "Didn't know you were a voyeur. I'm sure getting to watch a virgin avatar of a demonic President is quite..."

  Zac's voice trailed off as he watched the grey bird approaching with a scrubby brush on a long handle and a sudsy mop bucket that smelled like industrial bleach.

  "That, uh, looks very bristly," Zac said, backing away.

  Private Ami grinned wickedly, his small beak clicking. "As just a lowly private, I'm used to scraping barnacles off of Leviathan-class transports. I'll be sure you're spotless."

  Zac swallowed hard. "But I'm a cute little leopard boy. I can't change my spots!"

  …

  As Zac stepped out of the shower room, he felt clean. Violently, aggressively clean. In fact, he was fairly certain that the top three layers of his epidermis were currently floating in a drain somewhere, leaving him looking less like a human and more like a boiled lobster in a towel. He felt raw, exposed, and medically vulnerable.

  "Oh, you don't have to worry about bacteria," Cher Ami cooed mischievously, noticing Zac inspecting his bright red arm. "Bacteria are living things. This is Hell. Nothing lives here that doesn't have permission."

  "What about viruses?" Zac asked, wincing as the rough towel rubbed against his sensitized skin. "Is the plague a virus? Or some sort of prion?"

  "What is a prion?" the private asked, tilting his head as they walked back down the corridor toward the hot pool room.

  "Wouldn't you like to know," Zac sighed, adjusting his toga. "How am I the only one who's up to date on modern information? Are you all stuck in ye olden times? I feel like I'm the only one here who knows what a router is."

  He reached out to steady himself against one of the massive black columns lining the hall. The stone was cool and smooth, carved from obsidian fluted with gold in a style that screamed 'Roman Empire but make it Goth.' It was impressive, ancient, and very much not modern.

  "Master Halphas is quite hip!" Ami squawked defensively, puffing out his chest. "He finds human warfare quite intriguing! He keeps up with the trends!"

  "Yeah, sure," Zac said, wincing as his raw palms touched the cold stone. "Vikings and boomsticks. Very trendy. Next you'll tell me he's into muskets."

  "Pshh!" The small bird demon waved a wing-arm dismissively, looking insulted on his master's behalf. "Boomsticks are not nearly as effective as the Earl's Turkish walnut Mark XIX Desert Eagle, .50 Action Express with its custom 10-inch barrel and Weaver-style optical rail! It’s quite the versatile platform that allows for barrel, bolt, and magazine conversion!"

  Zac stared at the little bird, who was practically vibrating with ballistics enthusiasm.

  "Like I care about his expensive Counter-Strike skins," Zac hissed, leaning down. "I only care about his high-caliber eagle dick."

  Cher Ami’s feathers puffed out so hard he looked like a grey dandelion. He opened his beak to sputter some sort of defense of his commander's honor, or perhaps the tactical advantages of the .50 AE round, but his spatial awareness failed him completely.

  THUNK.

  The private walked face-first, at a brisk pace, directly into the black marble column. He bounced off and landed on his tail feathers, looking dazed.

  "Boom, headshot," Zac said flatly.

  He stepped over the concussed lesser demon and pushed through the heavy doors, walking back into the steam-filled embrace of the caldarium.

  Zac waved away some steam as his eyes looked across the bubbling pool. His breath hitched. Guncles.

  There was Andras, arms spread wide along the edge of the hot tub, his head thrown back. The water had flattened his wet feathers, but instead of looking like a pathetic, drowned rat, he looked incredible. He was lean and wiry, tight and coiled like a European soccer player who smoked too much but could still outrun you. He radiated a "musky bad boy" energy that was palpable even through the sulfur. His head feathers, however, were perfectly dry and fluffy, defying all laws of physics and humidity.

  However, before Zac could question the owl's hydro-phobic coiffure, his breath hitched again, and he choked on a bit of spit. There was the lion zaddy.

  Nock was floating in the center of the pool on an inflatable raft shaped like a majestic white stallion. He was wearing a tiny, gold lamé speedo that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Slices of cucumber covered his eyes, and his mane was wrapped in a protective towel turban. He looked like a pampered king on vacation.

  Zac began running.

  His toga slipped, tangling around his legs for a second before he kicked it free, leaving it in a heap on the wet tiles.

  "NO RUNNING IN THE BATHS!" Ami's panicked coo echoed from the doorway.

  Zac didn't care. He reached the edge of the pool and launched himself into the air, knees tucked to his chest.

  "CANNONBALL!"

  As Zac hit the water, sending a huge splash outward towards the lounging royal demons, a new thought passed through his mind. In these sorts of situations in most media, the person who jumped into the water would immediately launch themselves out in a comedic reverse-dive. But unfortunately, physics in Hell were way too much like Earth.

  HOT.

  Zac's tender, over-scrubbed skin immediately screamed at him as he sank into the pool. It wasn't just hot; it was literally boiling. He gasped, taking a deep breath of the hot, seasoned stew jacuzzi water, and immediately passed out.

  ....

  "ZACARY NOOO!"

  Zac lay on his back by the side of the pool, his eyes closed. His skin felt tight, hot, and incredibly unhappy with him. Did I die again? he thought groggily. Did I get reincarnated as a lobster? His mind was still seizing from the nearly first-degree burns that encompassed more than one hundred percent of his body, since he had the misfortune of breathing in the scalding demonic hot tub water.

  "Don't go to the light! It sucks so much up there!"

  Zac felt something on his lips. It was scratchy. He felt air being pushed into his lungs, tasting faintly of metallic ice cream and cucumber water. His eyes fluttered open. At least his body had the presence of mind not to open them under the much-too-hot water.

  His vision slowly came into focus. Nock was looming over him, performing CPR.

  "Oh no," Zac whispered, his voice raspy. "There's something in my airway. You might have to loosen it with your tongue."

  His vision grew clearer. Nock looked... strange.

  The lion was soaking wet, dripping onto Zac’s chest. The majestic, gravity-defying mane was now a sodden, heavy mess, falling down in sickly, wet clumps. The golden color of his fur seemed to be running, streaking down his chest like cheap hair dye. And his body... the sculpted perfection Zac had admired was marred. His chest and arms were covered in old, jagged scars and patches of bald skin where the fur refused to grow. He looked smaller. Vulnerable. Broken.

  Nock locked eyes with Zac.

  Oh, hello, Zac thought, his heart doing a strange little flip. Are you really a scrappy white lion who's been fighting to create your own pride?

  He brought his hand up to Nock's muzzle. He traced a spot where part of Nock's upper lip was missing, exposing his large fangs to the world in a permanent snarl. Zac couldn't help himself. The lion Adonis aesthetic was great, it truly was ten-out-of-ten perfection, but right now, Nock looked so fucking ferocious. Dangerous. Like a beast who had fought off an entire pack of wildebeest and lived to see another day. Not a picture-perfect statue, but a real beast. A creature who took what it wanted, ate what it wanted, fucked what it wanted, and didn't care who watched or complained.

  "I thought you were Mufasa," Zac whispered, tracing a scar that ran down Nock's cheek. "But are you really Scar?"

  Nock blinked. "Scar?"

  He brought a trembling paw up to his face, feeling the wet, matted fur, the exposed skin, the jagged edges of his own history. His golden eyes went wide with dawning horror.

  "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

  "Don't look at me!" Nock leaped off Zac as if he'd been scalded. "DONT LOOK AT ME! It's not what you think! It's an optical illusion! A… a… a mirage from the steam! AHHHHHHHHH!"

  Nock stumbled backward, his paws slipping on the wet tile, and fell straight back into the boiling hot tub with a massive splash.

  Zac sat up, hacking and coughing, and promptly vomited a quart of hot pool water onto the pristine marble floor.

  "NO! I JUST SCRUBBED THE DECK!" Private Ami yelled from somewhere in the mist. "FILTHY HUMAN!"

  Zac totally ignored the bird demon. He scrambled on his hands and knees to the edge of the pool where Nock was floundering. More and more golden hair dye was seeping into the water, creating a swirling, metallic cloud around the lion. He looked like a true laconic lion demon now, scraggy, scarred, and desperate, clawing at the slick marble edge.

  "Avert your eyes, pure Zachary!" Nock wailed, trying to shuffle down the edge of the pool to escape Zac's wide-eyed stare. "This... this is just a dream!"

  "Sir Nock!" Zac yelled. He threw his hands on top of Nock's massive, wet paws, pinning them to the edge.

  "Avatar, don't help me!" Nock cried, trying to pull away.

  Zac gripped the paws even harder, looking down at the panicked lion with intense determination. "LONG LIVE THE KING!"

  "NOOOOOOOO!" Nock cried as the human heaved backward, pulling the sodden, dye-streaked lion out of the pool and onto the deck.

  Nock lay dripping in his speedo on the tiled floor next to Zac, whimpering and trying to cover himself with his large, scarred paws. "You weren't supposed to see me like this," he sniffled. "This... this isn't me."

  "SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU SEXY BEAST!"

  Zac's yell echoed around the caldarium like a gunshot.

  Nock sniffled again, looking up with wide, teary eyes. "You don't need to lie to me to make me feel better. I'm hideous. I'm... a monster."

  "FUCK YEAH YOU'RE A MONSTER! A FUCKING HOT ONE!"

  Nock looked down and away, his ears flattening. "Of course you think I'm ugly. I am just a disgusting demon, not worthy of such a radiant and pure vessel such as you."

  "I SAID SHUT UP AND SHOW ME THAT LION DICK!"

  "I'll leave," Nock bubbled, beginning to slink away toward the changing room on all fours. "You don't have to ask me twice. I will give up my spot in the dream rotation. A dirty plague-haver such as myself should have never held out hope for-"

  Zac tackled him.

  "Is all the blond hair dye frying your brain?!" Zac screamed, grabbing the lion by his scruffy, ill-kempt mane. He tried to shake the much stronger demon, but only ended up with a few handfuls of wet, dyed fur. "I already said you could plague the shit out of me! Poz me up, you dumbass! This dirty, devil-may-care, carnivore bad boy look is making me so fucking wet!"

  Nock looked at Zac, blinking slowly. "I am sorry for dripping my revolting wetness on you."

  "AHHHHHHH!" Zac screamed directly in Nock's face. "Get your fucking condom on right now! How dare you hold out on me like this?! Scary slam me until I'm preggo!"

  Nock tilted his head, confusion warring with hope in his golden eyes. "Oh. Uhm."

  "Fuck me fuck me fuck me," Zac chanted, practically vibrating. "You're scary hot. Holy shit, I didn't even realize that was missing from the demon harem."

  "I uh, um, wait." Nock blinked. "Really?"

  "Does it look like I'm joking?" Zac demanded, looking down at his naked self.

  Nock looked down. And blushed. Hard. Zac was, indeed, not lying.

  "Oh Zachary, my pure lamb," Nock sobbed, pulling the avatar into a bone-crushing hug. "You really are sent from above, aren't you?"

  "Only one floor above, not two!" Zac wheezed, his ribs groaning under the pressure.

  Nock gently let Zac go, patting him on the head with a massive paw. "Of course. Above as in Earth. Heaven could never create someone as perfect as you are, Avatar."

  Zac tried to catch his breath and assess the structural integrity of his ribcage at the same time. "So does that mean you'll get your rubber so we can bang before I go to the demon pharmacy to get a prescription for plague prophylaxis?"

  Nock looked down again, his expression tragic. "That may have worked in the dream, but... if I entered your fragile body, my demonic magic would not be held by a mere latex or sheepskin."

  "Then put two on!" Zac cried, desperate. "Stop making excuses! I'm literally going to die of blue balls!"

  "Don't you dare die on me!" Nock said dramatically. The zombie-ish, dye-streaked lion man swept Zac up in his arms, holding him tight against his scarred and battle-torn chest. "I will find something! Something that can contain this demonic curse! A barrier so pure and strong that even my copious and virile and viral seed poses no harm to you!"

  Zac hugged Nock's neck, nuzzling into the wet fur. "You had me at copious."

  A squawk of confusion echoed from the other end of the pool.

  "What the fuck is going on with them?" Halphas asked as he emerged wearing his towel toga, staring at the scene with wide eyes.

  "Don't know," Andras replied, floating on his back in the water, his head still dry as a bone. "Don't care."

  Halphas shrugged and shouted, “no defiling the Avatar!”

  Neither Zac nor Nock heard the eagles shout, they were lost in their own discussions on what might be a good candidate for the most powerful rubber ever conceived.