The Cadet's Point of View
Victoria "Vickie" Garland had it all figured out. She had the grades. She had extra-curriculars. Cadet Garland was headed straight for the United States Military Academy at West Point. Hell, she'd be a general someday if she played her cards right.
Just have to finish this land-nav course first, she thought.
Weighed down by a thirty-pound rucksack on her back and carrying a "rubber duck" in her hands, Vickie trudged along to her next point in a wooded area her JROTC unit had been bused to for summer training. Careful to keep a mental pace count, she shifted her "rubber duck", a hard plastic rifle that looked and weighed the same as the real thing, to one hand. In her free hand, Vickie checked her compass heading.
"Perfect," she said out loud. There was still plenty of daylight to finish her orienteering exercise. They didn't let the JROTC kids do land-nav at night.
Land-nav, or finding your way with nothing but a map and compass, was a critical skill for a Soldier, especially an officer. She had five points to find, but only needed three to pass. Still, Vickie wanted all five. A perfect score would look really good on her West Point application.
Subconsciously relating what she was seeing to her map, Vickie was pleased to see exactly what she expected to see. There was a ridge on her left and a stream to her right. The third point should be right through the copse of trees in front of her.
Of course, maps never told the whole story. The woods were thicker, the path thinner, with ancient oaks pressing in on her from all sides. Stepping lightly in her combat boots, Vickie found her path barred by a massive spider web spanning between two trees.
"Ugh, I hate bugs." She took a stick and ran it through the web to make way. Her arms itched. The instructors told them not to roll up the sleeves on the camouflage, but this was Texas in June. The heat and humidity were just awful. Some mosquito bites would be a small price to pay. Leaves and branches dug into her arms as she squeezed through the little gap between the trees. Just beyond, she met a woman in sunglasses sitting in a folding chair.
"Give me your map," she ordered, cold and emotionless. Every point was the same. A woman was there waiting, and would punch a little card saying you found your point, and mark the next one on your map. Other than that, you weren't allowed to say anything to each other. Vickie didn't take the silent treatment personally.
Three down, two to go, and the sun is still up nice and high.
She'd officially passed, but "good enough" was not good enough for Vickie Garland, future general! Before she left the little clearing, she knelt to take off her boots and change her socks. Caring for your feet was paramount. She'd been humping through the woods for miles and miles today. Her points were surprisingly far apart. Vickie wrapped the soggy pair of socks around her neck to dry, an old Ranger trick her sergeant taught her, and took off for point number four at a determined pace.
The further she went, the more her itching arms started bothering her. She finally caved and rolled down her sleeves. The instructors were right. Vickie itched her right arm and noticed the light in the forest was dimming. Not much time left, maybe four out of five will be good enough?
Only...where was the fourth point? She should've passed it already. Her compass didn't make sense to her, like the directions had shifted. That can't be pointing north; the sun is setting over there.
A sense of vertigo overwhelmed her, and Vickie had to sit down to keep from falling. Just five minutes, just a quick rest, she told herself, but five minutes came and went, and she couldn't summon the will or energy to get back up.
"Oho, Ma'am, I think you're lost~" a woman with blue hair told her.
"I must be hallucinating. Was it something I drank?" Her canteen was nearly empty. Vickie had been doing her best to stay hydrated, just like the instructors told her.
"I'm afraid not," the blue-haired woman said sadly. "It's more like something drank you. Lift up your sleeve."
Not seeing any reason to refuse, Vickie did so. "What the hell kind of tick is that?" It was big and blue and swollen with her blood. Her vision swam. Suddenly, even the energy to keep upright was too much for her. The teenage girl sank to the forest floor. All she could see was a girl with blue hair.
***
Nyte's Point of View
One interaction with Rich's cooking had completely changed her mom's tune. Typical. Mom was always a creature of base lusts. Her stomach, her pussy, what did it matter? Nyte never really forgave her for cheating on Dad. They were nothing alike. She had self-control.
Rich wanted to save himself until they were both legal adults, and she loved the idea. It wasn't like he was frigid or anything, far from it. Hugging and kissing and cuddling were all on the menu. In fact, she could touch her boyfriend as much as she wanted. Those were his exact words! That was enough for now. Going further was something she could look forward to after she crushed her last season of high school football and committed to play for a top college. Then her ideal college life would begin. She'd be the star of the college team, leading them to victory in major bowl games, and have her smoking hot boyfriend staying with her in the same dorm! All of this would lead up to a proposal on NFL draft night. Rich and their children would live a life of luxury while Julie collected Super Bowl rings. It was all there, right in her mind.
Nyte tapped her foot and looked around. Where the hell was Kleia? It seemed she was the one in charge of monsters for the summer arc. They couldn't start without her!
Speak of the devil. Blue hair rippled through her peripheral vision. "Sorry I'm late," the Tick Queen said in contrition. "There was an issue with the arm attachments."
"Fufufu, nice of you to join us! Tick Queen Kleia!" Jellyfish Hitler's patience was as infinite as her ridiculousness. "What have you brought us this week, my fine Demonic Queen?"
Nyte raised an eyebrow. "Arm attachments?"
Her friend smirked. "Pure mutants aren't enough to challenge Future Hero. Meet Army Mutant Hooah! Those cannons she has in place of hands are quite functional, I assure you!"
"Hooah, Drill Sarnt!" sounded off a mutant in a military uniform. She was wearing combat fatigues with green face paint, and yes, cannons for hands.
"What do they shoot?" Nyte asked in interest.
Kleia bit her lower lip in that aggravating way of hers. "Oho, that would ruin the surprise!"
***
"Geez, not leaving much to the imagination, are we?" Rich glanced at his twin outside the kitchen window. Becca was wearing an extremely tight sports bra and shorts while she mowed the lawn. In a reverse world, women showing skin wasn't sexualized. He, on the other hand, would be called all types of names if he went outside in a tank top, which was considered "underwear" on men. Some things just weren't fair.
He tried not to go there, but Julie looked good as hell in her tight, revealing, summer clothes. More than once, he caught himself staring. That body was just ridiculous: tall, curvy, and powerful. Julie was oblivious, or at least he hoped she was. The girl was handsy as hell and didn't need more encouragement.
Not until I'm legal, he promised himself.
His sister had put off mowing the lawn until after lunch, so now she was rushing to get it done before Dad got back from work. Well, she'd earned a little latitude, as hard as she was working. They were lifting and running and doing practice SATs, as well as their summer reading for AP English. It was only a month until Becca quit her job at Chili's to focus on football. Rich intended to keep his; the tips were just too good. For him, karate and Future Hero activities rounded out his schedule. But for now? Lemonade!
Rich took out a press and started juicing the lemons by hand. It was harder than it looked. Did being in a reverse world nerf his strength or something? After much more work than he anticipated, Rich managed to juice eight lemons. From there, he mixed the fresh juice with water and sugar. Eyeballing Becca's progress, he put some ice in the pitcher and let the whole thing chill in the fridge. It would be nice and cold once his sister was done.
When he went outside to bring her a glass of iced lemonade, Rich noticed Becca's mower was quiet. Looking up, he saw his sister chatting up a group of teenage boys who were walking through the neighborhood.
Go get 'em, sis!
Almost like an anthropologist or one of those wildlife filmmakers, Rich studied the boys. They were wearing tight V-neck shirts that showed just a hint of chest and tight pants, no skirts that he could see. From what he understood, skirts were regarded a bit like kilts in this world, women's clothing, considered something tough girls wore. A good number of women wore gym skirts.
These boys, well, they were about what you'd expect from a reverse world: short, skinny, in a word, twinks. They had medium-length hair in styles that reminded him of emo or scene culture, and appeared to be wearing light makeup, especially around the eyes.
"Oh my goddess, is that your boyfriend?" one boy asked in astonishment when Rich got close.
Becca shifted her weight, nervously leaning on the mower. "Oh no, he's my twin brother."
"Twins!" the boys cried excitedly. Soon, they'd abandoned Becca altogether and were swarming around Rich.
"Omigoddess, I have such a boy crush on you!" one praised in a high, lispy voice.
"You're the biggest boy I've ever seen! So fierce! Do you work out? You must. You're big like your sister. Does it run in the family?"
They peppered Rich with questions with expressions of awe and worship. They were also, uh, touching him. "Father of god, I had no idea boys could get arms like that! You're bigger than most girls! Is it hard to date? Do girls care?"
Feeling somewhat overwhelmed at this unexpected turn of events, Rich glanced at Becca to see how she was taking this. She smiled at him, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Rich is dating the tallest girl in our school. They really match," she said.
"Omigoddess, that's sooooo romantic. You two need to get married and have giant kids! I'll babysit!"
They kept asking questions about his relationship when he heard a bunch of girls marching down the street, calling a cadence.
"IN THE A-A-ARMY!" they chanted rhythmically as they marched. The girls were all in uniform, marching alongside a bigger girl with green face paint and...guns for hands. Yep, that was corrupt energy he sensed. Stinger!
"Hooah! Girls! Let's get some!" The wannabe soldiers were likely brainwashed by Stinger, but that didn't excuse what they were doing.
"AIIYEEE!" the boys squealed and ran, but the soldier girls showed no mercy. They were carrying airsoft guns and tormented the teenage boys, shooting them with little pellets that just made them scream more and more.
Knowing what he had to do, Rich pulled Becca inside and transformed:
"From a future dark
To a post not set,
Stinger hasn't won just yet,
With Pureheart Power, a noble mission,
Come forth! Future Hero! Henshin!"
"Your lemonade is in the fridge, sis. Sorry about this," Future Hero said.
Becca just sighed. "The first time I've got real boys flirting with me and this happens..."
He put a gloved hand on her shoulder. "Worry not, sister of mine. You're tall and muscular now. Boys will be all over you senior year. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have business with some evildoers."
Future Hero rushed outside to the sound of the terrified boys. It looked like the brainwashed soldier girls had tired of shooting them with airsoft rifles and were about to escalate to grabbing. He couldn't allow that!
"Stop right there, villains!"
"Omigoddess! Future Hero came to save us! He's the strongest boy of all! Even Stinger can't match him!"
Rich now got to enjoy his own cheering section as he engaged the fake soldiers. On closer inspection, he noticed their eyes were completely glazed over. Nobody was home.
Yep, brainwashed, Future Hero concluded. Using the absolute minimum force necessary, he subdued the mind control victims while keeping his eyes peeled for the big one. She could be anywhere.
"I really wish I had zipties or something," he complained. Punching people hard enough to knock them out was potentially dangerous. This wasn't a movie or a TV show or even a story on the internet! "Stay with me, kids!" Rich's voice was deeper when filtered through the helmet of the Endram Armor. He thought he sounded cool. So did the boys. "Thank you, Future Hero!" they praised him.
The brainwashed soldier girls turned their airsoft rifles on him, but the little balls they shot just bounced off him harmlessly. "Haha, you'll have to do better than-"
BOOM
Future Hero was on his back before he heard the explosion. Ow ow ow...what the hell was that? Smoke was rising from a black, singed circle on his chest.
"Stay away from my recruits!" yelled the mutant in a drill sergeant voice. "It looks like you need some correction, Future Hero!" She raised her gun arm again, and Rich only just barely managed to roll out of the path of the blast.
Crap, a ranged fighter. I haven't trained for this!
Taking evasive action, Future Hero jumped and dodged and moved until he found himself in a quarry.
"I've got you now!" the Stinger mutant taunted him. "Now that I don't have to worry about collateral damage to civilians, I can use my alternate fire mode!"
What was...oh shit!
Her handguns, er, hands for guns, guns for hands, started spinning, and Rich knew what that meant! He scrambled for cover as the sound of automatic gunfire split the air. DAKKADAKKADAKKA! Bullet impacts kicked up dust, and Future Hero even felt ricocheted rocks hit his legs as Hooah's guns tracked him.
"You're about to be all you can be, Future Hero!"
Rich was pinned behind a pile of rubble as the Stinger mutant closed in. Bullet impacts cut up the rocks he was hiding behind, turning the barrier into something resembling Swiss cheese. Future Hero was about to be Swiss cheese himself if he didn't do something fast. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide!
"Fuck, does she have unlimited ammo? So unfair!"
"Looks like the military industrial complex wins again, hero boy!"
The DAKKA was now just one long whine as the guns spun faster. Being so close to getting ventilated by dual Gatling guns did wonders for Rich's concentration. He noticed a baseball-sized rock near his foot and prepared himself for one last desperate play. Charging the rock with Pureheart Power, Rich wound up.
"FUTURE FASTBALL!" He exposed himself just enough to get the throw off. The energy-infused rock struck Hooah like a purple thunderbolt, dead center in her camouflage-clad chest. A terrific crack echoed through the quarry as the Army mutant was knocked off her feet.
"Your...VA...disability claim...has been...denied..." She blew up like a demolition charge, the ammo she carried going off in secondary explosions like popcorn. Rich had to take cover again as bullets went wild, striking all sides of the quarry.
Once it was over, Rich sank to his knees. That had been too close. Stinger was escalating. This was about the part in the story where he'd get a new weapon, but where could he go for such a thing? The magic ring didn't provide him with one when he needed it. Future Hero thought about his problem all the way home.