User blog:Thrögma/Track him down: a one-shot (no lewd)

“Fuck! FUUUCK!!!” Dhargalk screamed, sweeping all the models and papers from the briefing desk. “How is it not him?! How?!”

Jânox sighed. “It just isn’t. Another false alarm.”

“I can fucking see that!” Dhargalk retorted. “Why does this keep happening, he said he would show up! First it was those black harpies; not him. Then that echidna training the boy; not him either. Now you say the bloody cyclops was a dead-end too?! How? A young man with a tremendous artistic talent, right where he said he was going to be, and it isn’t him! Who the fuck goes by the name ‘Thren’ these days? Apparently some rando! Are we sure it wasn’t him?”

“Positive,” Jânox responded. “This ‘Thren’ boy seems a match at first, but our current intel just doesn’t hold up. First off, the boy proposed, not the other way around—”

“That doesn’t necessarily rule him out,” Kra’hæl said, stroking his beard. “It’s not like he had been forward before.”

“Except, apparently this Thren has blue hair. Not auburn, blue. I’m sorry, it’s a bust,” Jânox responded. “And pick up all that shit you tossed about, it’s not like you are in charge here. I get you’re bored and antsy, but you know as well as us all that after the boss goes undercover, we just have to wait until he reactivates. Nothing we can do.” Jânox sighed, and wiped the sweat from his bald head. “We have to keep on looking.”

“Excuse me,” came a voice from the corner. The intern. “But why does blue hair automatically rule him out? The boss is a shapeshifter.”

“Not how it works,” Dhargalk said, having finally calmed down. “When the boss takes over a fetus, he imprints his genetics on it. That way, any kids born through the proxy are still his. One of the things that always carries over is his hair. Always. It’s like a sort of marker, so he can be found by those who know to look. Like back in Lescatie. A total loser, all kind and trustful, a real pansy. But he had the hair, and sure enough he reawakened. All signs pointed to Lescatie, and we thought ‘but this kid’s a fucking dork’, but it was him. And sure enough, he took down the whole nation. All of the girls, gone, and the power structure fell apart. I just don’t get why it’s SO DAMN DIFFICULT NOW!!!”

“There’s a report of a cripple in Amazon territory,” the intern said. “He has the hair, plus records show he’s got no kin. Right on the border of Nasurabi and Zijal. All things considered, that’s not too far from here. Should I send a team?”

“Sure,” Kra’hæl said. “Wait, you said the Nasurabi-Zijal border, right?”

“Yes sir.”

“Send two teams. This one might not be him, but he’s nearby. I have a hunch.”

“And what, pray tell, is your hunch?” Jânox asked.

“Antiope Syndrome, also known as Amazonian Pre-Maturational Infecundity Disorder, APMID. It’s a genetic condition that’s been affecting the Amazons of that region. It’s most notable symptom they are born without a horn or wing.”

“Symmetry,” Dhargalk muttered.

“However,” Kra’hæl continued, “it tends to have some side-effects. One such side-effect is paraplegia, caused by an error in the way the mana gets circulated. Lower-body paralysis, irreversible by magic or science. Not everyone with Antiope Syndrome is paralyzed like that. But it is a known symptom.”

“And does Antiope Syndrome affect any other monsters, or just the Amazons?” Jânox inquired.

Kra’hæl shook his head. “Just the Amazons of the western bank of Batlu River. Highly localized, only showed up about 60 years ago.”

“And why, pray tell, is a genetic condition relevant? It’s mysterious, of course, but it doesn’t mean we can find him there,” Jânox sighed.

“Because of its other known symptom; it delays arousal and sexuality until after the maturity cycle has started, around the age of 15 or 16. Which means–”

“No uncomfortably horny prepubescent children,” Dhargalk gasped. “I think we’re on to something. Lilith wouldn’t stand for her succubized monsters not fucking around at the earliest age possible. And she probably knows about this, as it has been 60 years.”

“But,” Jânox interjected, “it’s still around. Which means whatever caused this mutation, this “Antiope Syndrome”, is beyond Liliths control. Something more powerful than her did this. He did this. Damn Kra’hæl, you are one crafty bastard. Bit theatrical to save that last bit of evidence for the end, though. Don’t know why you didn’t lead with that.” Kra’hæls usually stoic visage cracked with a sly grin.

“Alright,” Dhargalk sighed. “Send in the teams. Let’s get our god back.”