Allied Command couldn't pinpoint when it started. Their chemical detection teams had been chasing obvious threats - investigating horse blood shipments, monitoring water tables, analyzing soil samples. All their tests showed exactly what they expected to find. Trace contaminants within predicted parameters. Environmental changes consistent with standard chemical warfare.

  Until Private Cooper started screaming about something moving under his skin.

  "Probable nerve agent exposure," the medical officer noted clinically. "Tactical Response Unit Seven reporting similar cases. Hallucinations consistent with-"

  Then Cooper's flesh began to ripple.

  "Jesus Christ," Lieutenant Mills whispered, watching the private's arm distort. "That's not... that's not how nerve agents work."

  The medical tent filled with the sound of tearing fabric as Cooper's uniform split along new seams. The flesh beneath didn't bleed - it flowed, seeking new configurations that shouldn't be possible.

  Mills drew his sidearm, placed it against his temple. The gunshot echoed through the medical station.

  But the bullet hole didn't bleed right.

  "Sir!" The radio operator's voice cracked. "Multiple units reporting... reporting similar incidents. The men are... their bodies are..."

  In the farmhouse cellar, Tanya studied the first field reports with merciless satisfaction. Her lungs still burned with chemical reminder as she traced implementation zones on tactical maps. Twenty kilometers of captured territory becoming something far worse than a simple killing ground.

  "Stage One effects confirmed in Sectors 3 through 6," her aide reported. "Allied medical units attempting standard chemical warfare protocols."

  Of course they were. Their doctrine was built around known agents - nerve gas, blood agents, blister agents. Things that killed without transforming. Without teaching new lessons about the relationship between flesh and purpose.

  "They're starting to understand," she noted, copper taste filling her mouth. "That this isn't just chemical warfare. That we're showing them something new."

  The radio crackled with increasingly frantic reports. Medical stations overwhelmed by dying men, by soldiers whose bodies were becoming expressions of impossible geometries. Chemical detection teams finding their equipment useless against changes that defied categorization.

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  "Anderson's platoon is... is trying to cut it out," the radio operator continued. "But the wounds aren't... they're not..."

  "Let them try," Tanya's satisfaction carried despite damaged lungs. "Let them learn that resistance only speeds the transformation. That flesh remembers new shapes once it's shown the way."

  Her finger traced the next implementation zones. The Protocol proceeding with ruthless precision in carefully chosen sectors. Not killing - that would be too merciful. Teaching them instead that bodies could become raw material for something far worse than death.

  "Sir." An intelligence officer appeared with fresh reports. "Their forward medical units are... are starting to break down. They're..."

  "Melting" she finished. "Showing their commanders exactly what happens when you bring chemical horror to my front. When you give me reason to use everything at my disposal."

  The implementation continued in targeted zones as more Allied soldiers discovered their flesh had new purposes. That bodies could be repurposed. That resistance only prolonged the horror while acceptance brought its own kind of transcendence.

  "Chen's unit reporting molecular-level changes in cellular structure," another aide reported. "Their scientists are trying to understand the patterns, but..."

  "But understanding only makes it worse," Tanya noted with cold satisfaction. "Let them analyze. Let them study. Let them see exactly what their flesh is becoming."

  Behind Allied lines, the sounds from medical stations changed. No longer screams of pain or death rattles. Something worse - the voices of men discovering that bodies had new purposes. That flesh could learn new configurations. That resistance only delayed inevitable transformation.

  "Harrison's unit has... has started to," the radio operator's voice shook. "They're using whatever they can."

  Perfect. Let them learn that isolation only increased the horror. That communion brought its own kind of mercy through shared transcendence. That flesh remembered new shapes better when it learned together.

  "Sir." Her chemical officer appeared with test results. "The transformative agents are spreading exactly as designed. Concentrated in their occupied territory. Our protective measures are holding in adjacent sectors."

  Tanya nodded, copper filling her mouth as she studied implementation patterns. Twenty kilometers becoming something far worse than a battlefield. A lesson in what happened when you gave her reason to show them new purposes for human flesh.

  The reports continued as more Allied units discovered what their bodies could become. dying, transforming. Not fleeing, but seeking others to share their transcendence. Teaching their commanders exactly what it meant when she decided a mere quick death was too merciful.

  Behind their lines, Medical Station Three echoed with sounds that would haunt survivors. Men whose flesh had learned new purposes. Whose bodies had become raw material for something far worse than conventional warfare.

  The implementation continued in carefully chosen sectors.

  The transformations spread like revelation through enemy lines.

  And Tanya showed them all what real horror meant when human bodies became expressions of purpose that shouldn't exist.

  They had brought gas to her front.

  Now they learned what that truly meant.

  When flesh itself became her instrument for teaching lessons about the price of understanding.