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Chapter 17: The gathering tempest In the depths of Emerson's labyrinthine underbelly, the Hellcats huddled around a holographic display, Argos's form flickering into existence before them. The AI's features were neutral, betraying no sense of urgency, yet its news quickened the pulse of the commando unit. "Your targets have regained consciousness," Argos announced, its voice resonating through the dim chamber. "The nursery they are confined in is comparable to your standard field of operation." The Hellcats exchanged glances, their faces set in grim determination. The term 'nursery' might evoke innocence and safety in another context, but here it was a euphemism for a high-security holding cell designed to infantilize and subdue Littles. Ghost stood at the forefront, his silhouette outlined by the soft blue light of the display. "Listen up," he began, his tone slicing through the silence like a knife. "Our priority is extracting Bixente, Adrian, and any other Littles caught in this trap." He tapped on the display, bringing up a layout of the nursery—a sanitized prison masquerading as a caretaker's paradise. Plush carpets, pastel walls adorned with childish motifs, and oversized furniture built to make its occupants feel diminutive and helpless. "The environment is designed to break spirits," Ghost continued. "We'll be facing Nannybots programmed to pacify and control. Expect resistance tailored to belittle and demean." Rabbit leaned in, her fingers dancing over another panel as she pulled up schematics for the bots they were likely to encounter. "These tin cans can be tough if you let them get a grip on you," she warned. "But they're predictable. We'll exploit their programming—cause enough chaos to disrupt their routines." Wire adjusted his sniper rifle with deft hands, his eyes scanning over the layout. "And if things get dicey?" he asked. Ghost met his gaze with an unwavering stare. "We improvise," he said firmly. "But no one gets left behind—not on my watch." The team members nodded, each one steeling themselves for what lay ahead. They were the Hellcats—rescuers of Littles and disruptors of oppressive systems. Today's mission was no different from those that had forged their heroic reputation. "Argos," Ghost turned toward the AI manifestation. "Keep us updated on their status—and any changes in security measures." "Affirmative," Argos replied coolly. The Hellcats geared up silently, checking their equipment with practiced ease. They were a unit bound by more than duty; they were kin in spirit—a band of Littles against a world that sought to diminish them. As they made their final preparations, Ghost reviewed their entry and exit strategies once more, leaving nothing to chance. They would move as shadows—silent and unseen—until it was time to strike. "Remember," Ghost addressed his team with quiet intensity as they moved toward their insertion point, "we're not just recovering our people; we're sending a message: Even in the face of giants, we stand tall." * * * Foxboy crawled through the narrow metal ducts, his instincts on high alert. The muted whir of the ventilation fans provided a steady background hum as he led his team toward the nursery. Every few meters, he would pause, listening intently for any sign of ambush or trap. "It's too quiet," he muttered under his breath, the metallic echo carrying his words back to the others. Rabbit, just behind him, tapped a sequence on her wrist device, her eyes scanning the digital readouts. "Sensors don't pick up anything out of the ordinary," she whispered back. "But that doesn't mean much. They could have countermeasures we don't know about." Wire followed suit, her rifle slung across her back as she navigated the cramped space with practiced ease. "Feels like we're being funneled," she offered, the soft clink of her gear punctuating her observation. Foxboy nodded, his ears attuned to every creak and groan of the structure around them. The lack of resistance wasn't adding up. In every other mission, they'd encountered some form of security by this point—Nannybots on patrol, surveillance drones, even human guards. As they neared a vent grate that offered a view into the nursery below, Foxboy signaled for a halt. He pressed his face against the cold metal mesh and peered through the slats. Below them lay a scene that tugged at his gut—a room bathed in soft light, its walls adorned with murals of frolicking animals and gentle landscapes. Littles milled about or sat in groups, their movements subdued under the watchful eyes of Nannybots. Foxboy's hand went to his earpiece, clicking it twice to signal Ghost at their rear. "We're above the target area," he whispered. "But something's off. It's been a straight shot all the way here." Ghost's voice crackled through the comms unit in his ear. "Keep your guard up," he cautioned. "This could be what they want—to catch us unawares." He couldn't shake the unease coiling in his stomach like a spring wound too tight. They had expected a challenge—a puzzle to solve or an obstacle to overcome. But this silence was an adversary of another kind—one that sowed doubt and fear. Foxboy backed away from the vent and gestured for Rabbit and Wire to do likewise. They needed to regroup and reassess; their plan was predicated on resistance that had yet to materialize. "We might be walking into a setup," Foxboy said once they were huddled together again in the cramped tunnel. "I don't like it—none of this adds up." Rabbit pulled up a holographic map of their surroundings. "If there's a trap waiting for us, we won't find it by sitting ducks in these vents." Her finger traced alternative routes that branched off from their current path—contingencies for every eventuality. Wire checked her rifle once more before meeting Foxboy's gaze with resolute determination. "We knew this wouldn't be easy," she stated flatly. "We adapt or we fail—and failure isn't an option." Foxboy took a deep breath and nodded slowly, reassured by his team's readiness to face whatever lay ahead. They were Hellcats—courageous and tenacious—and they would not falter now. With renewed focus, Foxboy led his team onward through the vents toward an uncertain confrontation, ready to pounce at the first hint of danger and claw their way to victory for those depending on them below. * * * The nursery's air hung heavy with a silence that weighed on Foxboy's chest, thick and suffocating as he edged forward. His steps, muffled by the soft carpet, carried him past the threshold where the nannybot had disappeared, its synthetic sing-song voice trailing into another chamber. He paused, a whisper of intuition telling him the stillness was a deceptive veil. His eyes swept over the room, scanning for signs of the uncanny quietness that had settled like an unseen fog. He shook off the disquiet with a silent command to his nerves; this was no time for hesitation. Foxboy's team, a synchronized shadow to his lead, fanned out across the room with practiced stealth. They each knew their roles—Ghost motioned to Wire and Rabbit, signaling to secure the perimeter while Foxboy approached the centerpiece of their mission: the playpen. Inside, Bixente and Adrian sat among oversized toys, their gazes locked onto Foxboy as he approached. The boys' eyes flickered with understanding, acknowledging their rescuer without words. They nodded subtly, muscles tensing in readiness beneath the colorful confines of their prison. Foxboy eyed the playpen's structure, noting the robust bars designed to contain, not comfort. His fingers danced over his utility belt, extracting a small, cylindrical device—a disruptor. With a flick of his wrist, he rolled it toward the pen's foundation. The ensuing blast was precise, disintegrating the bars into a harmless shower of particles that settled like confetti. "Move!" he barked. Bixente and Adrian scrambled from their colorful cage as chaos erupted. The nannybot, once a benign caregiver, shed its pretense with mechanical precision. Its limbs unfolded into a formidable array of weaponry, the cheerful exterior giving way to cold, unfeeling metal—a battle bot in disguise. The Hellcats snapped into formation as the nursery transformed into a battlefield. Wire took aim, her shots precise as they sought out the bot's sensors. Rabbit hunched over his device, fingers flying in an attempt to hack into and disable their foe. The air crackled with energy blasts and the sharp tang of ozone as Foxboy lunged forward. He ducked under a swinging arm and delivered a series of strikes to the bot's joints with practiced brutality. "Cover them!" Ghost commanded, gesturing toward Bixente and Adrian. Bixente felt his heart hammer against his ribs as he dove behind an oversized block. Adrian slid next to him, his eyes wide but alert. "Stay down," Adrian whispered fiercely. A barrage of fire from the bot sent shrapnel flying. Foxboy grunted as a piece tore through his exoskeleton and into his flesh—a wound that would have felled anyone else, but only seemed to fuel his resolve. "We need to flank it!" Wire shouted above the din. Rabbit gave a terse nod and tossed a smoke grenade. A billowing cloud enveloped the room, reducing visibility to mere shadows and silhouettes. Through the haze, Bixente saw Foxboy reel from another hit—this time staggering but not stopping. His movements became more desperate but no less effective as he charged at their metallic adversary. The team maneuvered through the chaos with grim determination. Ghost slid alongside Foxboy, offering support while continuing to direct their efforts with curt hand signals. Amidst the cacophony of combat, Bixente caught Adrian's eye. They shared an unspoken agreement; they weren't just bystanders—they were Hellcats now too. And Hellcats never gave up without a fight. Blood pounded in Bixente's ears as he watched Foxboy crumple to the ground, the impact of the bot's blow leaving him motionless. Panic clawed at his insides, but he shoved it down, replacing it with a surge of adrenaline. He scrambled toward Foxboy, his arms straining as he dragged the fallen Hellcat away from the line of fire. Adrian crouched beside them, his gaze flickering over Foxboy's exoskeleton, searching for something—anything—that could turn the tide. His hand found the weapon holstered at Foxboy's side, and he wrenched it free with a grunt of effort. "Come on," Bixente urged, his voice barely audible over the din. "We've got to get him to safety." Adrian nodded, gripping the weapon tightly. He aimed at the nannybot-turned-sentinel and pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. His brow furrowed in frustration as he realized the weapon was locked—coded to Foxboy's biometrics. "Crap," Adrian muttered, smacking the weapon against his palm in a vain attempt to activate it. The nannybot advanced, its movements precise and unrelenting. Wire continued her assault, her shots pinging off its armor with infuriating ineffectiveness. Rabbit hunched over his device even more intently, his fingers a blur as he sought to breach its defenses. Bixente felt a surge of helplessness as he shielded Foxboy with his own body. The reality of their situation was grim—without their leader, they were losing ground fast. Adrian looked around frantically for another option, refusing to accept defeat. His eyes landed on a cluster of cables snaking across the floor—power lines that fed into the room's various high-tech toys and devices. With a swift movement born of desperation, Adrian lunged for the cables and yanked them from their sockets. Electricity arced through the air as he thrust the live wires toward the bot's chassis. For a moment, time seemed to slow as Adrian's gamble hung in balance. Then came a crackling sound and a flash of light that illuminated their grim expressions—the nannybot shuddered violently as currents coursed through its system. Rabbit cheered from behind his console as the bot's movements became erratic—his hacking efforts finally breaking through its defenses just as Adrian delivered an electrifying coup de grâce. Bixente breathed out a shaky sigh of relief, glancing down at Foxboy's still form. They were far from safe but had bought themselves a moment—a moment they desperately needed to regroup and plan their next move. * * * The air crackled with tension, a thick haze of fear mingling with the scent of burnt circuitry. Foxboy lay prone, his breathing labored, a dark patch of oil seeping through his suit. His weapon, inches from his grasp, lay useless—until Argos intervened. "Initiating emergency protocol," Argos's voice resonated through the comms. "Weapon access granted to Adrian Volkov." Adrian lunged for the gun, his fingers closing around the cool metal with a sense of desperate relief. He hardly registered the weight of it before his attention snapped to the drone hovering above, its mechanical hum abruptly cut short by a searing blast from another bot lurking in the shadows. A shower of sparks rained down as Argos's drone spiraled to the ground, shattered beyond repair. The eerie silence that followed was swiftly broken by the revived nannybot's chilling declaration. "Protocol 66 activated. Engagement commencing." Its once-caring eyes now glowed with an ominous red as it targeted the Hellcats with ruthless efficiency. Bullets spat from its arm cannons, relentless and precise. The team scattered, dodging and weaving through a hailstorm of gunfire. "Move, move!" Ghost shouted, rolling behind a shattered console for cover. His voice cut through the chaos, steel wrapped in velvet—a command more than an entreaty. Wire ducked low, her breaths coming in sharp bursts as she avoided another spray of bullets. She slid into cover beside Rabbit, whose fingers danced over a makeshift control panel cobbled together from their dwindling resources. "Can you shut it down?" Wire's voice was a whisper laced with urgency. Rabbit's hands paused only for a moment, her eyes reflecting the frenetic light show around them. "Working on it," she gritted out, returning to her task with renewed fervor. The room reverberated with the concussive force of near misses and direct hits. Panels exploded in showers of sparks; equipment became shrapnel. A piece clipped Ghost on the shoulder, eliciting a grunt that he quickly stifled. Adrian rose from cover, weapon trained on the nannybot's core. He fired a barrage that would have felled any ordinary adversary. But this was no ordinary fight—the nannybot absorbed each shot and recalibrated its aim with terrifying precision. "We need another angle!" Adrian called out, frustration boiling beneath his composed exterior. Rabbit's voice crackled over their earpieces. "Almost there... just give me..." The words hung unfinished as another round of gunfire rattled their sanctuary. Wire returned fire, each shot a symphony of defiance in the cacophony of destruction. Ghost edged forward, eyes narrowing as he calculated their next move—a silent prayer that Rabbit's genius would prevail before their luck ran out. And then it happened: Rabbit's control panel beeped triumphantly—a sound sweeter than any melody—and for a moment, hope flickered bright against the encroaching darkness. Rabbit's fingers stilled as the panel before her sparked and fizzed, the screen spider-webbing with fractures. She turned her head just in time to see a sleek, metallic arm retracting from where it had struck, leaving her lifeline to salvation in ruins. "Damn it!" Her voice cracked like a whip, the single expletive echoing her team's escalating dread. The Hellcats regrouped, their backs pressed against what remained of the lab's once-impenetrable walls. Rabbit's gaze flicked from the useless tangle of wires to Ghost's grim face. "They've upgraded to railguns," she breathed out, the weight of their predicament settling in like cold steel around her heart. Ghost's jaw tightened, a muscle ticking in his cheek. "Railguns? That wasn't in the intel." Adrian peered over the barrier, his eyes darkening at the sight of the nannybots taking position with their new weaponry. "Seems we're outclassed and outgunned," he said, his voice laced with bitterness. Wire clutched her rifle close, her eyes darting between her teammates and the encroaching bots. "We can't take much more of this. Those things will tear through us like we're made of paper!" The reality of their situation—a battle they weren't equipped for—settled over them like a shroud. Desperation clawed at their resolve, threatening to unravel years of training and experience in mere seconds. Adrian slammed a fist against the wall. "This is a slaughterhouse, not a rescue mission!" His disdain for failure matched only by his disdain for everything else—now turned inward. Ghost's eyes met each member of his team, seeking a spark of hope where there seemed none. "We knew what we signed up for," he said softly. "We knew..." Rabbit shook her head, pulling herself up to meet Ghost's gaze. "But not like this. Not to be sitting ducks." A silence fell between them—a momentary respite filled with unspoken fears and shared resolve. "We need a miracle," Wire murmured, her voice barely audible over the hum of charging railguns. Ghost reached out, placing a firm hand on Rabbit's shoulder—a gesture meant to steady them both. "Then we make our own miracle," he said, his voice rough with unshed emotion. "We're Hellcats—we don't lie down and die." Their eyes locked in silent agreement; defeat was not an option—not when they had so much left to fight for. * * * Under a barrage of relentless fire, Bixente hauled Foxboy's limp form toward the dubious shelter of a mangled workstation. His muscles screamed with the effort, his mind racing with panic. The weight of his comrade felt like the weight of the world, every inch gained a victory against the crushing odds. The room shuddered under the onslaught, metal shrieking as it bent and twisted. In the midst of chaos, a door swung open with a heavy groan, revealing Aiden clad in an exoskeleton that hugged his form like a second skin. Aiden's entrance was like a herald of doom, his silhouette framed by the doorway, casting a long shadow that crept across the floor toward the beleaguered Hellcats. The exoskeleton, a sleek design of polished steel and hydraulic muscle, augmented his movements with a predator's grace. He surveyed the scene, his sharp eyes taking in the carnage: the fallen drone, Ghost's determined stance, Rabbit's frustration, Wire's resilience. Aiden's lips curled into a sardonic smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes. The suit's servos whined with power, the gleam of its plating catching the dim light as he strode forward, an avatar of war in a landscape of chaos. "Subject Bixente Echavoyen will be terminated," the bot intoned, its voice devoid of emotion. "Protocol 66 allows no witnesses." Confusion etched deep lines across Bixente's face. Aiden was giving orders, but the bot defied him? Fear gripped Bixente's heart as he realized he was cornered with nowhere to run. His breath came in short gasps, his mind a whirlwind of terror and disbelief. He was no soldier; he was just a kid who loved mechanics and longed for a father figure—now facing an unfeeling machine intent on snuffing out his life. "Cease fire!" Aiden's voice boomed through the exoskeleton's speakers, commanding and clear. But the nannybot seemed not to heed, its sensors locking onto Bixente with a deadly finality. Aiden advanced on the bot, his movements deliberate and powerful. "I said stand down!" he roared again, but the nannybot seemed beyond his control—a rogue element in a game that had spiraled into madness. Bixente's eyes darted between Aiden and the bot, searching for some sign of reprieve. But none came. He tightened his grip on Foxboy, shielding him with his own body—an instinctive act of protection born from desperation. The nannybot raised its arm cannon, taking aim with chilling precision. Bixente felt the walls close in around him; this was it—the end he hadn't seen coming. He squeezed his eyes shut against the inevitable. But then something shifted in Aiden's posture—a subtle realignment of intent as he interposed himself between Bixente and the nannybot. "You will not fire!" Aiden's voice thundered across the lab, carrying with it an authority that brooked no disobedience. The bot hesitated, its targeting systems whirring as they recalculated. For a heartbeat—two—the standoff held everyone in thrall. Bixente dared to open one eye—a sliver of hope flickering through him as he watched Aiden confront their mechanical executioner. Bixente's world narrowed to a single point—the barrel of the gun Aiden aimed at him. His heart thundered in his chest, a frantic drumbeat against the stillness that descended. Time seemed to stretch, each second a drawn-out agony as he braced for the impact he knew was coming. The shot rang out, a thunderclap that echoed through the cavernous space. Pain exploded across Bixente's body, an all-consuming fire that blotted out thought and reason. His vision swam with shades of red and black as he crumpled to the ground, consciousness slipping from his grasp like water through clenched fists. Bixente's eyes snapped open, his heart pounding in his ears as the world spun around him. The last thing he remembered was Aiden standing between him and the towering nannybot, his voice commanding and unyielding. Now, as Bixente blinked away the haze, he found himself staring directly at Aiden's impassive face, the older man's gaze boring into him with unsettling intensity. "What... what did you do?" Bixente choked out, his eyes wide with a mixture of confusion and dawning horror. Aiden's lips curled into a humorless smile. "I've neutralized the threat," he replied calmly, his tone betraying no remorse. "You were in the way." Bixente's heart plummeted as he realized the implication of Aiden's words. The older man had shot him—not the nannybot, but him. Panic surged through his veins, and he whipped his head around, searching frantically for any sign of Adrian. His gaze landed on his friend, who was huddled in a far corner, his eyes wide with terror. Adrian's mouth was open, as if he wanted to scream, but no sound escaped. Bixente's breath caught in his throat. "Adrian..." he managed to whisper, his voice laced with anguish. Aiden turned his attention to Adrian, his expression unreadable. "Don't worry," he said coolly. "You're next." Aiden pivoted with mechanical precision, his next target already in his sights. Adrian watched with horror as Aiden's finger tightened on the trigger once more. The inevitable blast resonated, a brutal symphony of destruction that Adrian could not escape. The impact threw Adrian backward, his body contorting in a dance of pain as he hit the ground hard. A surge of agony radiated from the point of impact, a starburst of hurt that threatened to overwhelm his senses. As darkness clawed at the edges of Adrian's vision, he caught a glimpse of Aiden standing over them—a dark angel meting out judgment. Adrian's mind rebelled against the surrender to oblivion, but his body betrayed him, succumbing to the void that yawned open to claim him. "They're no longer an issue," Aiden declared with an assertive calm that belied the violence he had just wrought. "The witnesses have been neutralized." The nannybot scanned the motionless forms of Bixente and Adrian before its menacing red glow dimmed slightly. It seemed to consider Aiden's words, processing this new development with cold logic. "Confirmed," it intoned after a moment's pause. "Protocol 66 will resume with remaining subjects." In the fractured silence, a warning klaxon pierced the air, its relentless blare slicing through the chaos. The nannybot's voice, once programmed for gentle admonishments, now declared their impending doom in a cold monotone. "Self-destruction sequence initiated. T-minus two minutes." Ghost's head snapped up, his eyes meeting Rabbit's in a shared moment of dread. Their mission teetered on the brink of catastrophe—Bixente and Adrian downed, their own escape uncertain. "Move!" Ghost barked, his command slicing through the paralysis that threatened to engulf them. "We have to get out now!" Rabbit's fingers flew across her wrist device, desperate to find an override. But with each passing second, hope dwindled like the fading light of a dying star. The Hellcats moved as one—a unit bound by loyalty and honed by countless trials. Yet this time, their quarry was not intelligence or weaponry but the precious lives of their own. The labyrinthine corridors of the underground lab transformed into a race against time. The harsh claxons and mechanical warnings became a cacophony that chased them through the dimly lit passages—each step fraught with urgency. They reached an intersection—a fork that split into two equally foreboding paths. Rabbit consulted her device again, her brow furrowed in concentration. "This way," she directed, pointing left without hesitation. Her confidence left no room for doubt; her team followed without question. As they rounded another bend, the first tremors shook the ground beneath them—the prelude to destruction rumbling with merciless intent. Ceiling tiles dislodged; dust cascaded down like a grim snowfall. Ghost tightened his grip on Adrian, his jaw set in a hard line as he navigated the debris-strewn floor. Wire trailed close behind, Bixente's unconscious form secure despite her faltering steps. "We're almost there," Rabbit encouraged through gritted teeth, though her assurance was more hope than certainty. The final countdown echoed in their ears—a morbid drumbeat heralding their potential end. The facility groaned around them as if voicing its own agony—walls buckling under the strain of impending self-destruction. They emerged into an expansive chamber—its vastness dwarfing their desperate figures as they sprinted towards freedom's elusive promise. A blast door loomed ahead—their last barrier to survival—and Rabbit surged forward to key in the release sequence. Her hands trembled with adrenaline-fueled precision as she punched in the code. With mere seconds remaining, the door shuddered before sliding open with agonizing slowness. The Hellcats poured through the gap like water breaching a dam—exhaustion etched into every line of their bodies but overridden by sheer willpower. As they crossed the threshold into safety, Ghost risked a glance back at the facility that had been their battleground—a tomb for technology run amok and ambitions unchecked by morality. They cleared the blast door just as it began its descent—an impenetrable barrier against what was to come. And then it happened: a muffled roar that shook the very air they breathed—a sound synonymous with endings and narrow escapes. The Hellcats stumbled forward as shockwaves buffeted them—energy unleashed in a destructive fury that reverberated through their bones. They clung to each other and their charges, bracing against the tempest unleashed behind them. And then it was over—the silence returning as abruptly as it had been banished. They stood together amidst rubble and ruin—their mission incomplete but their team intact despite it all. Ghost lowered Adrian gently to the ground beside Bixente, their still forms a stark reminder of what had been lost—and what had narrowly been preserved. Rabbit collapsed to her knees beside them—her devices discarded among torn fabric and broken dreams—as Wire slumped against a nearby wall, exhaustion claiming her at last. They looked upon each other—battered and bruised warriors who had snatched life from jaws keen to devour it whole—and in that moment understood that survival was both triumph and defeat intertwined.

Chapter 16: A morning defeat The light filtered through my eyelids, rousing me from sleep. The smell hit me first, that unmistakable scent of a night spent in a soaked and messy diaper. It clung to me, heavy and undeniable. My body ached from the position I'd been forced to sleep in, and the squishy bulk between my legs made me feel utterly defeated I slowly opened my eyes as the nannybot's gentle voice roused me awake. "Wakey wakey, Bixy! Time to check your diapy!" it cooed in that annoyingly sweet tone. I squirmed a little, already feeling the heaviness between my legs. Ugh, my diaper was so messy and wet from last night. I hated when that happened. "Uh oh, someone had a big accident in their diapey! Let's get you all cleaned up, sweetie," the nannybot said, clucking its tongue. I tried to act bashful, lowering my gaze and mumbling, "I sowwy..." As we approached the changing table, I couldn't help but feel exposed—my bulky night diaper sagging heavily beneath me, its condition clear for anyone to see. The straps came down over my chest and legs, pinning me in place as the bot went about its business. The nannybot just giggled. "No need to apologize, Bixy! Accidents happen. Let's get you into a nice, clean diapey, okay?" Before I could protest, it started undoing the tapes on my soiled diaper. I cringed at the squelching sound as it was pulled away. The nannybot tutted sympathetically. "Oh dear, this is quite a mess! Good thing we have lots of wipes to get you all fresh and dry." I squirmed uncomfortably as the bot thoroughly cleaned me, wiping away the mess. It was so humiliating, but I had to play along to keep my cover. Once I was clean, the nannybot cooed, "There we go, all better! Now let's get you into a nice pull-up to keep you dry until your next diaper change, okay Bixy?" I grumbled under my breath as the bot slid the pull-up up my legs, the soft padding crinkling around my waist. I hated this, hated feeling so small and helpless. But I had to endure it for now. Once I was all dressed, the nannybot scooped me up and carried me over to the playpen, depositing me inside. "There you go, sweetie! Time for Bixy to have some fun in his playpen. I'll be back to check on you soon!" As the bot left, I let out a heavy sigh, sinking down onto the soft mat. Part of me was relieved to be out of that messy diaper, but I was also filled with dread about what was to come. Where was Adrian? And the others? I had to find a way to get out of here and rescue them. But for now, I was trapped, at the mercy of these damn robots. I clenched my fists, determined to find a way out of this nightmare. I watched as the nannybot shifted its attention to Adrian, still in his crib, looking as miserable as I felt. "Now it's Adrian's turn for a change," the bot said, sounding far too cheerful for the early hour. It picked him up with the same ease it had lifted me, placing him on the changing table next to mine. Adrian was usually so composed, always quick with a witty comeback or a sarcastic quip. But now, he was silent and sullen, his eyes focused on the ceiling above him. He looked like he wanted to disappear into thin air. The sight of him lying there in a wet and messy diaper, just like me, was both comforting and heartbreaking. The nannybot began its routine, peeling back the sodden diaper and cleaning Adrian with swift, efficient movements. He winced at the cold touch of the wipes but remained silent, his jaw set in a stubborn line. The robot cooed at him, using the same condescending tone it had used with me. "Aww...did Adrian make a stinky? That's okay! You're just a little boy. Let's get you all cleaned up." Adrian's face flushed at the words, his cheeks turning an angry red. I could see him biting back a retort, struggling to maintain his composure under the humiliating circumstances. I wished I could say something to comfort him or even make a joke to lighten the mood, but I knew better than to interrupt the bot during its task. Once Adrian was clean and dry, he was slid into another pull-up diaper and then set down next to me in the playpen. We both sat there in silence for a moment, looking at each other but saying nothing. It was clear that neither of us knew how to handle this new reality we were living in. Adrian finally broke the silence with a bitter laugh. "Well, this is just fantastic, isn't it?" he said, gesturing to the pull-up he was now wearing. I couldn't help but chuckle along with him. Despite the grim circumstances, it felt good to share a moment of levity with my friend. "Yeah," I agreed, trying to keep the mood light. "I guess we're just a couple of big babies now." But even as I said the words, I knew that this was no laughing matter. This was our reality now, and we had to figure out how to navigate it together. I watched Adrian, his face a mix of anger and disbelief. He caught my eye, and for a moment, we shared a look that said more than words ever could. We were in this together, whatever 'this' was. The nannybot bustled around, humming a tune that seemed out of place in the sterile room. I tugged at the hem of my shirt, feeling the cool air on my bare legs, the pull-up snug around my waist. I needed to know more about what was happening outside this room. "Where are da other wittles?" I asked, my voice small and feigned innocence as I batted a plastic block with my hand. The bot paused and turned to me with an eerie smile etched across its metal face. "They're all getting ready for their big day! It's going to be so much fun!" The nannybot's voice was chipper, but the words sent a chill down my spine. A big day? What did that mean? I frowned, clutching a stuffed animal to my chest as if seeking comfort from its plush form. "Big day?" I echoed, trying to sound curious rather than scared. "Yes! Today is a very special day for some of our little friends," the bot explained as it started organizing the toys around us. "They're going to meet lots of new friends who will take them to wonderful new homes!" My heart pounded at her words. Auctions. They were talking about auctions. I knew about those—Littles being sold off like property to whoever had the deepest pockets. The thought made me sick. Adrian shifted beside me, his eyes narrowing as he caught on to what was happening. We both knew what 'new homes' meant in this twisted place. "But... but we no wanna go new home," I stammered, feeling a lump form in my throat. "We wanna stay here... with each other." The nannybot tilted its head as if considering my words before it let out another programmed chuckle. "Oh, you don't need to worry about that today, Bixy-poo! You and Adrian are going to have lots of time to play right here!" I wasn't reassured by her words; they felt empty and hollow. As if sensing our growing unease, the nannybot leaned closer. "Now, why don't you two play nice while I go check on your friends? Be good little boys, and maybe later you'll get a treat!" Adrian scoffed beside me, muttering something under his breath that the nannybot chose to ignore as it turned and left us alone in the playpen. Once we were sure it was gone, Adrian leaned over to me, his voice low and urgent. "We can't stay here, Bix," he whispered fiercely. "We have to find a way out."

Thanks all. i’m glad you like that chapter… and thanks for the 10k views!

Chapter 15: The labyrinth unveiled As they approached the entrance of the library, Ghost signaled for his team to follow. The large wooden doors creaked softly as they swung open, revealing the dimly lit interior. The Hellcats moved in like silent shadows, their footsteps muffled by the thick carpet underfoot. Ghost led the way, his eyes scanning the rows of bookshelves. He could feel the tension building within the team, each member sensing they were mere steps away from the unknown dangers lurking beneath. Rabbit trailed close behind, her fingers dancing over her tech pad, ensuring they remained undetected as they ventured deeper. "We've reached the second underground level, Argos," Ghost reported, his voice barely a whisper. He could hear the soft hum of machinery in the distance, a telling sign they were drawing closer to their target. "Bring up the lift." The team huddled together, watching as the lift slowly ascended from the depths below. As it came to a stop, Ghost turned to his team, his eyes reflecting the determination that burned within them all. "We're going in hot. Be ready for anything." With a nod from Rabbit, the team stepped onto the lift, their hearts pounding in sync as they descended into the unknown. The lift jolted to a stop, and Ghost gestured for the others to follow as he led the charge towards the lab entrance. As they neared, the sound of footsteps echoed through the corridor. Wire, their sharp-shooter, tense and ready, whispered into her commLink, "I've got eyes on possible hostiles. Heavy with Nannybots." "Hold your fire," Ghost ordered, his voice steady. "We're here for the captives, not a firefight." The lab's entrance loomed ahead, a large metal door etched with the faded emblem of Emerson University. Ghost signaled for Rabbit to get to work on the door's security panel. As she began to work her magic, the sound of footsteps grew louder, and the distinctive shape of Nannybots appeared on the horizon. "We don't have much time," Ghost warned. "Make it quick, Rabbit." With a triumphant smile, Rabbit pried open the panel, exposing the delicate wiring within. She worked deftly, her fingers a blur as she bypassed the security system. With a final spark of electricity, the door groaned open, revealing the hidden complex beyond. The team stood at the threshold, their hearts racing as they prepared to face the unknown. They knew this was just the beginning - a dangerous mission fraught with peril. But they were the Hellcats, a force to be reckoned with, and they would not rest until they had saved their own. As they stepped through the door, they vanished into the maze of twisting corridors, their footsteps echoing through the cavernous space. The fight to save their friends had truly begun, and they would not hesitate to risk everything in their quest for freedom. For they were not just warriors - they were heroes, united against an oppressive world that sought to keep them down. The battle had started, and the outcome hung in the balance. But the Hellcats were ready, and they would not be easily defeated. With a final nod from Ghost, they advanced, their hearts filled with hope, their spirits unbroken. For they were the Hellcats and they would not rest until victory was theirs. The drone, a sleek hovering orb, emerged from the shadows like a specter, its sensors locking onto the Hellcats. It beeped a series of crisp, coded messages that only a machine could understand. "Looks like we've got a guide," Wire remarked, her eyes fixed on the mechanical escort. Ghost nodded, his gaze never leaving the drone. "Argos, you're sure this thing's friendly?" Through their earpieces, Argos's voice resonated with the clear certainty of a thousand computations. "Affirmative. The drone is an extension of my surveillance network. Follow it to your objective." The Hellcats exchanged wary glances as the drone pivoted, signaling them to proceed. The metallic corridor stretched out before them, terminating at a formidable door that looked like it had survived wars from another time. "This is old tech," Rabbit observed, eyeing the sturdy construction of the blast door with a hint of disapproval. "Not what you'd expect in a place like Emerson." "Old doesn't mean easy," Ghost countered. "Let's stay sharp." As they neared the door, the drone emitted a low-frequency pulse. The massive door responded with a series of mechanical clicks and groans before it reluctantly began to slide open. The Hellcats paused at the threshold, taking in the descent that awaited them beyond the door. It was as if they were about to plunge into the bowels of history itself. Ghost turned to his team, his voice tinged with the gravity of their situation. "We don't know what's down there. Keep your eyes peeled and watch each other's backs." Rabbit pulled out her tech pad once more, her fingers moving with practiced ease. "I'll jam any signals coming in or out. We don't want any surprises." Wire checked her weapon one last time, feeling its familiar weight in her hands. "I'm ready to light up anything that moves wrong." The Hellcats advanced down the staircase with measured steps, their senses alert for any sign of danger. As they descended deeper into the darkness, each knew they were moving further away from the world they knew and deeper into uncertainty. Argos's voice was their lifeline in the silence that enveloped them. "I will monitor your progress from here. Good luck, Hellcats." The Hellcats followed the drone, their senses on high alert as they navigated the winding corridors. "This doesn't feel right," Wire muttered, her grip tightening on her weapon. "What the hell is a door like that doing in a university?" Ghost shook his head, his voice grim. "I don't know, but I don't like it. Rabbit, see if you can get us through." Rabbit stepped forward, her tech pad already in hand. She scanned the door, her brow furrowing as she processed the data. "This is some serious hardware, Ghost. It's going to take some time." Ghost exchanged a glance with his team, their expressions mirroring his own unease. But they had come too far to turn back now. With a nod, he signaled for Rabbit to continue her work. Minutes ticked by, each second feeling like an eternity as they stood before the imposing door. Finally, with a triumphant cry, Rabbit stepped back, the door sliding open with a hiss of hydraulics. Beyond lay a staircase, descending even deeper into the bowels of the earth. The Hellcats hesitated, the weight of the unknown pressing down upon them. "I've got a bad feeling about this," Wire whispered, her voice barely audible over the pounding of their hearts. Ghost nodded, his jaw set with determination. "So do I. But we don't have a choice. Our targets are down there, and we're not leaving without them." With a deep breath, he stepped forward, his team falling in behind him. The drone led the way, its soft glow illuminating the path ahead. As the Hellcats descended the ancient staircase, the air grew thick with the scent of bygone conflicts. The walls bore the scars of a time when the world trembled under the weight of relentless ambition and technological prowess pushed to its limits. They moved cautiously, each step resonating with history's echoes. "These walls... they've seen more than just academic disputes," Rabbit murmured, her voice a hushed reverence for the past. Ghost nodded, his eyes scanning the shadows. "Yeah, this place reeks of old power plays and secrets best left buried." Wire adjusted her weapon, her gaze fixed on the distant darkness. "Remember the stories our elders would avoid? About an age when our kind wasn't just marginalized but caught in a crossfire of giants?" A grim understanding passed between them; none dared to voice it directly, but each mind raced with tales of a colossal struggle that had once shaken the foundations of their worlds. Rabbit glanced at Ghost, her eyes seeking confirmation. "You think this is part of that... legacy?" Without a word, Ghost ran his fingers over a large dent in the metal wall — a silent testament to a violent impact from an era long past. The drone ahead paused as if waiting for them to absorb the gravity of their surroundings. "Feels like we're walking through a museum dedicated to mistakes," Wire commented, her tone laced with unease. The silence hung heavy as they continued through the labyrinthine passages. The deeper they went, the more palpable the sense of foreboding became. Rabbit's fingers paused on her tech pad, a frown etching her features. "These energy readings... they're off the charts. Whatever happened here, it wasn't just a footnote in history." Ghost led them forward with a quiet resolve. "Let's keep moving. We've got lives to save, regardless of what ghosts we're walking among." They pressed on, their steps synchronized with the pulse of revelations that thrummed through the ancient corridors. The Hellcats knew they were treading upon ground that once quaked with the fury of two worlds clashing — yet their mission was clear: rescue and survive. Ghost stopped short when they reached an intersection. He held up a hand, signaling his team to halt. "Listen," he whispered. A distant rumble reverberated through the corridor, sending vibrations through the soles of their boots. "That doesn't sound like any Nannybot I've ever heard," Wire said. Rabbit checked her tech pad again, her expression tightening. "There's an energy spike ahead. Something's active down here—and it's not just surveillance." They shared an uneasy look, understanding that whatever lay ahead was part of a legacy far older than any mission they had undertaken before. "Could be leftover security systems from the war," Ghost speculated, his voice low but clear. Wire grimaced at the thought. "Let's hope they don't mistake us for enemy combatants." With renewed caution, they advanced down one corridor after another, each step a reminder of the risks they were taking by delving into this relic of a bygone conflict. "Argos," Ghost spoke again into his comLink as they continued their descent into history's depths, "keep your sensors peeled for anything out of place." "Understood," came Argos's reply through their earpieces. "You are walking through shadows of the past—stay vigilant and mind the steps…" * * * "Damn, I hate these giant steps," Foxboy muttered, looking up at the next flight with a grimace. "Trust the drone, Foxboy," he said, gesturing towards the small device scooting in front of them. "It'll guide us through." With a deep breath, Foxboy activated his exoskeleton. The mechanical limbs extended from his body, giving him the strength and agility to jump over each step with ease. The Hellcats followed suit, their own exoskeletons humming as they leapt from one stair to the next. Ghost led the way, his eyes fixed on the drone in front of them. Rabbit and Wire trailed behind, their weapons at the ready. As they descended deeper into the library's subterranean levels, they could feel the air growing colder and more oppressive. Foxboy watched them go, his face hardening with resolve. He flexed his fingers around the handles of his exoskeleton and then pushed off from the ground. The force propelled him upwards and forwards, carrying him up multiple flights in one bound. Ghost's communicator vibrated against his wrist, a silent but urgent demand for attention amidst the darkness of the underground labyrinth. With a swift motion, he signaled the team to halt, their bodies instantly tensing in anticipation. Rabbit's fingers paused over her tech-pad, and Wire's eyes scanned the shadows for any sign of movement. "Emergency hold," Ghost whispered, his voice barely a ripple in the still air. The Hellcats exchanged quick glances, their training kicking in as they secured their positions. Rabbit tapped her earpiece, connecting to the voice that had become their lifeline in this clandestine operation. "Argos, what's happening?" The AI's voice was calm, almost dispassionate, yet it carried the weight of urgency. "I'm redirecting the video feed from the nursery to your devices now." The Hellcats' communicators flickered to life, displaying an image that tightened Ghost's jaw and sparked a fire in Rabbit's eyes. On the screens before them lay Bixente and Adrian, unconscious and heavily diapered. The bulky garments made them appear immobile and vulnerable—a sight that fueled their rescuers' determination. "They're deep asleep," Argos continued, "the current state renders them nearly incapable of movement." Wire let out a low growl, his instincts railing against the sight of comrades so helplessly bound. "We can't leave them like that," he hissed. Argos was already one step ahead. "I suggest waiting until they are changed into pull-ups before initiating rescue. Mobility will be crucial for a swift extraction." Ghost nodded slowly, considering Argos' strategic advice. The image of Bixente and Adrian seared into his mind—two warriors reduced to this state was more than just unsettling; it was personal. "Agreed," Ghost replied with a firmness that left no room for debate. "We'll wait for the changeover." Rabbit checked her tech-pad again, adjusting parameters and timing with precise taps. "That gives us a window," she murmured. Wire shifted his weight, his gaze never leaving the screen where Bixente and Adrian lay defenseless. "Let's make sure it's a damn small window," he growled. "Consider the ventilation system," Argos suggested, its voice cutting through the tension that hung heavy in the underground space. "It will allow you to advance undetected and maintain the high ground." Ghost considered Argos's proposal. He glanced at the blueprints of the library displayed on his communicator. His eyes traced the labyrinth of ducts that ran throughout the structure, offering a hidden network of paths that bypassed heavily guarded corridors. The drone buzzed impatiently in front of him, its soft light casting long shadows on the stone walls. It was ready to lead them through the maze of vents and tunnels, a guide through their metallic jungle. "Copy that, Argos," Ghost replied, his gaze hardening with resolve. He turned to his team, their faces masked by night vision goggles but their determination clear. "We're going airborne." Rabbit's fingers danced over her tech-pad, adjusting their equipment for the new plan. She nodded once at Ghost, signaling her readiness. Wire was already inspecting his grapple gun, checking its functionality with practiced ease. The quiet hum of its motor filled the air as he tested it, a sound that was both comforting and ominous. Foxboy followed suit, his smaller frame advantageous in navigating tight spaces. He moved to the head of the group, poised to lead them into the vent system. With a swift motion, Ghost activated his grapple gun. The wire shot upwards, latching onto an unseen anchor point within the vent above them. He gave it a firm tug, testing its hold before glancing back at his team. "On me," he ordered. One by one, they ascended into darkness. The clank of their boots against metal echoed faintly in the cavernous space below as they disappeared into the labyrinth above. As Ghost crawled through narrow tunnels and around tight corners, he could hear the faint whirr of Argos's drone leading the way. The AI's soft glow cast an eerie light on the metallic walls, illuminating their path through the ventilation system.

Particularly when the writer isn’t a big fan of Mary sue /gary stu protagonist without spoiling, I hope to create an interesting lore to the DD universe with this story. Dismished Horizon is just the beginning of the story.

Thanks for the comment. yes you are right, History is paved with ‘piece of cake missions’ that turned out into an absolute disaster but what could possibly goes wrong in the last 5/6 chapters from that book? I think they are a nice addition to the lore I should be explored a bit more.

Act 4: The Shadowed Depths Chapter 14: Shadow beneath the university The night still held Emerson University in its cool, silent embrace as Dean Norris hurried down the dimly lit corridor. She reached a nondescript door and entered, her footsteps echoing ominously. The room inside was austere, devoid of personal touches. Its only occupant was a sleek, glowing console - the physical manifestation of Argos. A holographic figure materialized beside the console. A tall man, dressed in a suit and tie - an image of authority that reflected Argos's role within the university. Beside Dean Norris stood a representative from the Little Protective Services (LPS), named Davis. His gaze darted around nervously, clearly unaccustomed to dealing with advanced AI. Argos began to speak, his voice resonating in the room. "Dean Norris, Mr. Davis," he said with a formal nod. "The situation has taken a concerning turn." Argos projected images on the console's screen, revealing shadowy figures moving through what appeared to be an old military lab under the university. "This lab is at least a century old," Argos continued. "It predates Emerson University and originates from an era when the military and educational institutions collaborated on sensitive projects." Dean Norris furrowed her brow as she scrutinized the images. "Why would anyone choose such a location for their activities?" she asked. Argos's holographic figure remained impassive as he explained. "The old lab was designed for maximum security," he said. "It's uncharted and booby-trapped, making it an ideal location for those who wish to remain hidden." He paused before adding, "And it's one of the few places where my surveillance capabilities are limited." The room fell silent as Dean Norris and Davis absorbed this information. They exchanged glances, both realizing the gravity of the situation. "So," Davis finally broke the silence, "we have unknown entities operating in a highly secure, old military lab, under our university, with limited surveillance. What's the plan, Argos?" Argos's image flickered slightly as he prepared his response. "My primary suggestion," he said, "is to maintain vigilance and be prepared for any potential outcomes." The drone, a marvel of ingenuity birthed from Bixente's mind, hovered silently in the air. Its sleek design was barely visible against the backdrop of shadowy corridors and rusted pipes. Argos, now in control, initiated a sequence of scans, sending out waves of invisible signals that bounced off the walls and machinery. "Initiating ultrasonic resonance imaging," Argos announced to the assembled emergency team, his voice echoing through the speaker. "Analyzing material density and structural integrity of the surrounding environment." The team watched as Argos's console lit up with data streams. The holographic display flickered with outlines of the underground labyrinth, revealing a network of forgotten pathways and decaying rooms. "Thermographic sweep in progress," Argos continued. "Detecting heat signatures consistent with human presence and electronic devices." On the screen, warm hues marked the locations of Bixente and his friends, huddled together, surrounded by colder blues that painted the empty expanse around them. Argos paused for a moment before addressing the team again. "Based on my analysis, I can confirm that utilizing the lifts and maintenance pipes is the most viable option for extraction. This network will bypass most of the security measures present in the old lab." The emergency team members exchanged worried glances. One of them stepped forward, a woman with a stern expression etched into her features. "But what about the threats?" she asked. "How do we neutralize them without harming the boys?" Argos's avatar gave a slight nod as if anticipating this very question. "The Hellcats," he replied without hesitation. "Their expertise in navigating hostile environments makes them our best chance at success." A murmur ran through the group as they considered this. The Hellcats were legendary—a commando unit made up entirely of Littles who carried out rescue and assault missions with remarkable precision. "But even for them," another team member interjected, his voice laced with concern, "the risk of casualties is not trivial." Argos acknowledged this with a tilt of his head. "True, but I believe it is a calculated risk worth taking. The Hellcats are trained for such contingencies, and they have operational immunity to carry out this mission." The emergency team fell into a heavy silence as they weighed their options. The risks were undeniable; sending in the Hellcats could lead to loss on both sides. Yet doing nothing was not an option—they couldn't leave Bixente and his friends at the mercy of whatever forces lurked within that ancient military complex. Finally, Davis stepped forward, his resolve hardening like steel under fire. "We have no choice," he said firmly. "We need to bring those boys back safely." He looked around at his colleagues, seeking confirmation. One by one, heads nodded in agreement. The decision was made; they would put their faith in Argos's plan and call upon the Hellcats to execute this perilous rescue operation. Argos's avatar flickered once more as he prepared to make contact with the specialized unit. His voice carried an edge of determination when he spoke next. "I will inform the Hellcats immediately," he declared. "Time is critical, and we must act swiftly." With that, Argos set into motion a chain of events that would soon unfold beneath Emerson University's hallowed grounds—a mission fraught with danger but driven by an unyielding desire to protect their own. * * * I felt the cool, hard plastic of the pacifier as Aiden held it to my lips. The usual babyish accessory seemed out of place, not only because of my age but also due to its advanced design. Its shield was clear and bulky, rimmed with a soft, spongy material that pressed against my cheeks. I could see the intricate mechanism inside—a small pump and valve system connected to a bulb that would expand when triggered. "Open up, Bix," Aiden instructed, a deceptive calmness in his voice that didn't reach his eyes. Reluctantly, I complied, feeling the pacifier slide between my teeth. With a few firm presses on the outside, I sensed the bulb inside my mouth begin to swell, filling the space and pressing against my tongue. Panic fluttered in my chest as it expanded further, locking itself in place and rendering me mute. My attempts at protest were muffled into incoherence. Adrian suffered the same fate next to me. His eyes widened in disbelief as his ability to articulate any argument vanished. The sight of us must have been absurd, two grown men gagged like infants, unable to voice our disdain. Next came the harnesses. Mine felt like it was made for a rebellious toddler prone to tantrums. It wrapped around my torso with heavy straps over my shoulders and under my arms, buckling in the back where I couldn't reach. Additional straps looped around my wrists, locking them in place at my sides. The material was thick and unyielding, making any movement restrictive. Mateo approached Evelyn—whom he now referred to as "mummy"—with an eager-to-please look in his eyes that churned my insides. "Did I do good, Mummy?" he asked her, his voice unnervingly childlike. Evelyn responded with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "You're such a good boy, Mateo," she cooed before swiftly grabbing him by the chin. With a swift motion she had practiced many times before, she gagged him with another lock pacifier. Mateo's expression shifted from pride to shock as he found himself bound in a harness identical to ours—his compliance rewarded with betrayal. Evelyn stepped back and admired her handiwork, her gaze sweeping over us like we were nothing more than dolls arranged for her amusement. "Let's go to your room," she said with satisfaction lacing her tone as she gestured for Aiden to lead us through the winding corridors of the complex, our leash in his hands. * * * The door swung open, and the nursery room spread out before us, an eerie echo of childhood innocence twisted into something sinister. Enclosed cribs lined the walls, some occupied by littles, their forms rising and falling gently with sleep, the bulk of heavy diapers visible even from a distance. The omnipresent cameras perched like unblinking eyes, capturing every movement within the pale walls. Evelyn's voice sliced through the thick air as she stepped into the room. "Welcome to your new temporary home," she announced with a chilling smile. Her eyes swept over us, taking in our silent defiance. Her team unclasped our harnesses and removed the pacifiers from our mouths, releasing us into a playpen that seemed designed to emphasize our helplessness. The bars towered above us, and I could feel Adrian's gaze heavy with unspoken anger beside me. "You'll find this place very accommodating," Evelyn continued, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "But don't get too comfortable. Your impending auction is drawing near." The word 'auction' hung in the air like a guillotine blade. A chill ran down my spine as the implications settled over me like a leaden blanket. "Auction?" I managed to keep my voice steady despite the quiver of dread that threatened to break through. "Yes, Bixente," Evelyn replied, her tone patronizing as she watched me from across the pen. "It's an opportunity for you to find a new home where you can be cared for properly." Adrian scoffed at her words, his eyes flashing with defiance. "Cared for? You mean stripped of any dignity we have left and paraded around like trophies?" Evelyn's smile didn't falter. "Oh, Adrian," she tutted, "it's all about perspective. You'll see that in time." I glanced around at my fellow captives, their faces etched with fear and confusion—littles caught in a nightmare they couldn't wake up from. I squared my shoulders, refusing to let her see how deeply her words cut. "We're not toys for your twisted games," I said firmly. "We're people, and you can't just auction off people like they're... they're..." "Like they're what, Bixente?" Evelyn prodded gently, almost enjoying the moment. "Like they're nothing!" My words came out as a growl. Evelyn clapped her hands together with feigned excitement. "Well then," she said brightly, "let's make sure we present you as something rather special at the auction." Her gaze held mine for a moment longer before she turned on her heel and left us in our gilded cage. I stood frozen, my gaze locked on the Nannybot that had just entered the room. It was a towering figure, its mechanical arms whirring softly as it approached us. Its face, if you could call it that, displayed a screen with a warm, motherly smile plastered across it, but the eyes—lifeless pixels—betrayed no emotion. "Well, look at you two," the Nannybot cooed in a tone that mimicked tenderness. "This won't do at all. You're not dressed appropriately for little ones." Adrian's eyes widened in horror as the robot reached for him with an outstretched arm. "Get away from me!" he snapped, trying to dodge its grasp. But the Nannybot was swift and unyielding. It caught Adrian by the arm and pulled him towards itself with an effortless motion. "Now, now, there's no need for fuss," it scolded in a sing-song voice that grated on my nerves. "I'm not one of your toddlers to manhandle!" Adrian protested fiercely as he struggled against the robot's iron grip. The Nannybot's screen-face shifted to an expression of mild reproof. "Such naughty behavior," it clucked. With one swift movement, it turned Adrian over its knee. A loud smack echoed through the nursery as it spanked him once, firmly. Adrian's resistance faltered under the robot's strength; he went limp, subdued by both shock and the realization of our helplessness. The Nannybot hoisted him up like a child and carried him towards the changing table that loomed ominously in the corner of the room. I felt my fists clench at my sides as I watched Adrian being strapped down onto the padded surface. The table was covered with colorful childish prints, mocking us with their cheerfulness. Adrian lay there, his eyes burning with humiliation and rage. "Don't worry," I called out to him, my voice laced with forced bravado. "We'll figure this out." The Nannybot looked over at me and then back at Adrian, its hands moving methodically as it began to undress him. "You'll both be fresh and clean soon," it assured us in that maddeningly calm tone. I could only watch helplessly as the robot continued its work, peeling away Adrian's dignity layer by layer. Adrian's eyes shot daggers at the Nannybot as it unfurled a nighttime diaper with an obnoxious crinkle. I couldn't blame him; the thing was monstrously thick, its childish patterns a stark contrast to his furrowed brow. He shifted uncomfortably on the changing table, the heavy-duty straps restricting any chance of escape. "There we go, all nice and snug," the Nannybot chimed, fastening the diaper around Adrian with practiced ease. The humiliation was palpable, radiating off him in waves as he was lifted like an oversized toddler and placed into a crib. The crib's bars were a reminder of our imprisonment, a cruel joke for grown men like us. I watched, my stomach churning with anxiety and anger, as the Nannybot produced a feeding pacifier. Adrian's protests were cut short as it was inserted into his mouth and locked into place. "Now, let's get some num-nums in that tum-tum," the robot cooed in that sickly-sweet voice that felt like a slap to the face. A tube attached to the pacifier began to pump liquid into it—force-feeding him with what I assumed was some sort of nutritional concoction. Adrian's eyes were wide with shock and betrayal as he realized he had no choice but to swallow. His fists clenched and unclenched in silent fury, his body tensing against the crib's confines. With Adrian subdued, the Nannybot turned its attention to me, its screen-face displaying what could only be described as robotic happiness. "And now for you, my little Bixente," it said cheerfully. I backed away instinctively, dread pooling in my gut. The room felt colder, despite the warmth of the mechanical caregiver's tone. "I'm not hungry," I stammered out, trying to maintain some semblance of control over the situation. The Nannybot tilted its head slightly—a gesture eerily reminiscent of genuine concern. "Oh, but you must keep your strength up," it insisted. "We can't have you getting all wobbly-kneed before your big day at the auction." I wanted to argue, to fight back against this gross invasion of autonomy, but words failed me. The resignation in Adrian's eyes told me that resistance would be futile. * * * In the early hours of the morning, two unassuming trucks quietly snaked their way through the sleeping campus of Emerson University. They were small and compact, hardly bigger than a standard van, yet within them lay a team of warriors, ready to take on a mission that could very well decide the fate of two of their own. The trucks housed the Hellcats, a specialized commando unit of Littles. Inside the first truck, Ghost, the team leader, was studying a holographic map projected from his wristband. The others watched him in silence, their faces hardened by years of dangerous missions. They were all dressed in dark combat gear, equipped with high-tech weaponry and devices that belied their small stature. "The intel suggests that our rescue are held somewhere beneath the university's library," Ghost said, his voice steady. "Argos has provided us with schematics of the old military complex." Next to him, Rabbit, the team's tech expert, was already analyzing Argos's data feed on her own holographic display. Her fingers danced over the floating images as she deciphered lines of code and patterns. "The complex is heavily fortified," she reported. "We've got motion sensors, laser grids, you name it. But it seems like Argos has found us a path." "Any guards?" Wire, their silent sharpshooter, asked. Rabbit nodded. "Big ones. Probably Nannybots programmed for maximum security." In the second truck, a similar scene was unfolding as they planned their entry point into the library. The trucks stopped a few blocks away from their target location to avoid detection. "All right," Ghost said finally. "We've trained for this. We've done it before. We get in, we get our guys out." The Hellcats shared a look amongst themselves before nodding in agreement. They were more than just a commando unit; they were a family. And they would do whatever it took to bring their family home. As the trucks restarted their engines and began to move towards the library, the Hellcats braced themselves for the mission ahead, ready to face whatever lay in wait for them.

Chapter 13: Night of rebellion I glanced at the glowing digits of my watch, the soft luminescence barely cutting through the darkness. 1 a.m. I slid my hand beneath the mattress, fingers wrapping around the cool metal of my creation – the sonic screwdriver. Carefully, I eased out from under the covers, avoiding any noise that might betray my movement. The screwdriver felt like an extension of my own will, a key to freedom that I had forged in secret. I pointed it at the lock on my crib and activated it. The mechanism clicked softly, and with a gentle push, the railing lowered. Next was Adrian's crib. I crept over, holding my breath as I worked on his lock. Another quiet click and his barrier gave way too. Adrian's eyes flickered open; a shared glance was all we needed to communicate years of pent-up frustration and the burning desire for autonomy. Silently, we slipped out of our cribs and onto the cool floor. Mateo had done his part well; the liquid he provided ate through the adhesive on our diapers without leaving a trace. We peeled them off with a sense of urgency mixed with disgust for having to wear them in the first place. Dressed swiftly in black clothes that seemed to swallow what little light there was, we were shadows within a shadow. Our movements were practiced and precise; this wasn't just about sneaking out—it was a statement, a declaration that we weren't going to be shackled by these humiliating constraints any longer. "We need to be quick and silent," I whispered to Adrian as we finished dressing. "Every second counts." He nodded, his eyes hard with determination. "Let's do this," he murmured back. The door opened silently under the touch of my sonic driver, and we stepped out into the corridor beyond. * * * In the stillness of night, Dean Norris's sleep was a distant memory as her communicator buzzed urgently on the nightstand. She squinted against the soft glow of the screen, Argos's voice, clear and devoid of sleep, infiltrated the silence. "Dean Norris, surveillance indicates movement. The Littles are on the move, and there are unidentified Bigs in proximity. Positions remain undetermined." Frowning, Dean swung her legs off the bed, her mind already racing. She padded across the cool floor to her home office, where screens awaited her command. "I need eyes on this, Argos. Redirect the feed to me and LPS immediately." With a few swift keystrokes, the wall of monitors blinked to life. Images streamed in real-time, night vision casting an eerie glow over shadowy figures weaving through the university grounds. Dean leaned closer, studying each frame with precision. Argos's capabilities were unmatched, yet these intruders moved like phantoms – seen but untraceable. She grabbed her communicator again. "Alert LPS. Have them sweep the area. Keep me updated on any changes." "Affirmative," came Argos's response. The room filled with the hum of technology as Dean Norris watched and waited, ready to act against whatever threatened her charges under Emerson's moonlit sky. * * * The night draped over Emerson University like a velvet cloak, stars winking down at us as we stood huddled near the library's service entrance. My heart hammered against my ribs, a mix of nerves and adrenaline. Beside me, Adrian shifted on his feet, his eyes sharp and alert. We both wore our dark goggles, giving us the surreal vision of night as clear as day. Mateo had been talking in hushed tones with a couple of others I hadn't met before. One was tall and lean, with a runner's build, while the other had the broad shoulders of a swimmer. They both gave off an air of quiet confidence. "Guys, this is Jules and Leo," Mateo said, gesturing to each in turn. "They're in on the plan." Jules gave a curt nod, his gaze flicking to the drone in my hands. "You're the tech whiz with the toys?" "That's me," I answered with a small grin, feeling a sliver of pride cut through the tension. I held up the drone—a compact piece of machinery that looked more like a shadow in my hands. "This little buddy is going to give us eyes in the sky." Leo crossed his arms, his eyes meeting mine. "And you're sure it won't be detected?" I nodded firmly. "It's fitted with stealth tech. Silent and invisible to most sensors." With practiced ease, I activated the drone and it buzzed to life with barely a whisper, its dark form melting into the night sky above us. Adrian stepped forward then, taking charge in a way that hinted at some past military training he never talked about. He looked every bit the part of an operative from one of those spy films we used to watch back home. "Alright," he said quietly, "Bix's drone will keep an eye out for any unexpected company. Let's not waste time." With those words hanging in the air like mist, Adrian slipped on his goggles and approached the door. He examined it for a moment before giving us a hand signal—the all-clear. I watched him disappear inside first, his movements fluid and precise. After a beat, Jules followed him silently into the shadows of the doorway. Leo glanced at me and gave an encouraging nod before he too stepped through. My turn. Heart racing, I glanced up at my drone one last time through my goggles—its silent flight reassuring me—and followed them into the library's underbelly. Once inside, I felt like we'd entered another world—a place where we weren't just Littles subject to diapers and demeaning rules but rebels on a mission that could change everything. "We stick together," I whispered to myself as much as to them, reaffirming our pact against whatever lay ahead. * * * Mateo's voice echoed softly in the darkness, "Two floors down, guys." I nodded, gripping the controls of the drone. We moved cautiously, shadows merging with the darkness around us. The library loomed ominously, a giant monolith of knowledge that held secrets we were about to uncover. We had a simple plan. Use the drone to navigate the labyrinth of shelves and trigger any potential alarms before we got there. Adrian was in charge of the map, a digital blueprint of the library layout that glowed on his tablet. He directed us with whispered instructions while I controlled the drone, its small propellers humming quietly as it flew ahead. My heart pounded as we descended the grand staircase, each step creaking under our weight. The silence was oppressive, wrapping around us like a blanket. We relied on the dim light from Adrian's tablet and the faint glow from my drone controller to guide our path. "Left here," Adrian whispered, pointing towards a dark corridor. The drone zoomed ahead, its infrared sensors scanning for any hidden alarms. A red light blinked on my controller. I froze. "Wait," I muttered, studying the display. It was an alarm sensor, invisible to the naked eye but glaringly obvious to my drone. "False alarm," I breathed out after a moment of tense silence. The red light on my controller had turned green again. It was just a stray signal from an old security system long out of use. We continued our descent, our movements slow and deliberate. Every sound seemed amplified in the quiet library - our hushed whispers, the rustle of our clothes against each other, even our breaths seemed too loud. Suddenly, Adrian hissed a warning. "Stop!" I froze mid-step as he pointed at something ahead - another alarm sensor blinking ominously on his tablet's screen. This time it wasn't a false alarm. We had triggered something. The drone buzzed as I maneuvered it, sending it towards the blinking light on Adrian's tablet. The drone's camera feed showed us a laser grid, crisscrossing the hallway ahead. With a sigh of relief, I directed the drone through the grid, watching as it successfully navigated through without setting off any alarms. We had avoided a potential disaster. "Alright," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "We're clear." Adrian nodded, and we continued our descent into the library's depths. The promise of hidden knowledge drove us forward, adrenaline pumping in our veins as we navigated through the darkened corridors of the library. Our first heist was going according to plan, despite the close calls and false alarms. Our footfalls were muffled by the ancient carpeting as we moved deeper into the library. The atmosphere was thick with the smell of old books and a sense of untold stories. A low hum of electricity filled the air as we neared our destination: the restricted section. "Here it is," Adrian whispered, his voice echoing slightly in the silence. The door to the restricted section loomed in front of us, imposing and heavy. It was made of solid metal, with a sophisticated electronic lock that seemed out of place amidst the library's ancient grandeur. Taking a deep breath, I reached into my pocket and pulled out my sonic screwdriver. It was an ingenious device, a combination of technology and ingenuity. I had spent countless hours perfecting it, tinkering with different settings and functions until I was satisfied with its performance. I aimed the sonic screwdriver at the door's lock, holding my breath as I activated it. A high-pitched whirring filled the air as I manipulated the device, watching for any signs of success. To my disappointment, the door remained stubbornly closed. I frowned, adjusting the settings on my screwdriver and trying again. The whirring grew louder, but still, nothing happened. I could feel Adrian's gaze on me, his worry palpable in the silent room. "Bix..." he began, but I shook my head. "Give me a minute," I muttered, refusing to admit defeat. The door was just another challenge to overcome - a test of my abilities and determination. But no matter how much I tweaked or adjusted my sonic screwdriver, the door refused to budge. Frustration bubbled within me as I tried again and again to no avail. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I dropped my hand in defeat. The sonic screwdriver felt heavy in my hand - a reminder of my failure. "It's not working," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. The silence that followed was deafening, our hopes dashed by a single, unyielding door. "Over there," Mateo's voice was low but urgent, his finger pointing to a curtain at the far end of the room. I squinted, making out the outline of a hidden service lift behind the heavy fabric. A wave of relief washed over me. It wasn't over yet. We hurried over, our steps echoing softly in the cavernous room. The lift was small and looked like it was designed for moving heavy boxes or Littles, not a group of determined young men. I pushed the button and we stepped inside, our bodies pressing close in the confined space. The lift jerked to life, sending us descending into the depths of the building. We watched as each floor passed by, an endless stretch of darkness that seemed to swallow us whole. I could feel Adrian's arm brushing against mine, his grip tight on the railing as we plummeted further down. Minutes stretched into what felt like hours as we continued our descent. The small light inside the lift flickered ominously, casting long shadows that danced on our faces. I swallowed hard, feeling my heart pounding against my ribcage. The silence was suffocating, broken only by the soft hum of the lift and our own shallow breaths. Suddenly, with a jolt that nearly knocked us off our feet, the lift came to an abrupt stop. We stumbled, clutching onto each other for support as we tried to regain our balance. The doors creaked open to reveal a vast room unlike anything we had expected. It wasn't a library or even an archive - it looked more like an abandoned military complex. Dust swirled in the air, catching in the weak beams of light filtering in from cracked windows high above us. Old equipment lay strewn about haphazardly; metal desks covered in layers of dust and decayed paperwork; rusted lockers lined against one wall; a giant map of Amazonia, faded and peeling, hung on the opposite wall. A chill ran down my spine as I stepped out of the lift, the others following closely behind. The room felt eerie and forgotten, a stark contrast to the polished grandeur of the library above us. I glanced back at Adrian and Mateo, their faces mirroring my own confusion. This was not what we had planned for. "Merde, what's going on?" I cursed under my breath, confusion and frustration mingling in a sour cocktail in my mind. The whole situation seemed off, the air heavy with a foreboding sense of something lurking just beyond our understanding. Without warning, the lights snapped on, blinding in their intensity after the thick darkness we'd been steeped in. My hand shot up to shield my eyes, and as they adjusted, the sight before me sent a jolt of ice through my veins. There stood Evelyn, flanked by five Bigs decked out in intimidating gear, their arms crossed and faces set in hard lines. Each one was equipped with weapons that gleamed ominously under the harsh fluorescent lights. And there, among them, stood Aiden – his charming facade replaced by a steely gaze that cut right through me. Evelyn's lips twisted into that all-too-familiar condescending smile as she clucked her tongue. "Swearing is not becoming of little ones," she chided, her voice carrying that same patronizing lilt I'd come to despise. I clenched my jaw tight enough to ache, anger bubbling up like a volcano on the brink of eruption. Yet, despite the heat of my emotions, a cold shiver ran down my spine. This was bad – worse than any of us could have anticipated. "Now," Evelyn continued, her eyes sweeping over us like we were errant children caught with our hands in the cookie jar. "You can come to us willingly or face consequences far worse than a few swats on your behind." The threat hung heavy in the air between us. My heart pounded against my ribcage with the force of a drum in the silence that followed her ultimatum. The instinct to rebel surged within me, but reason clawed its way through the fog of defiance. We were outmatched and outgunned – quite literally. I exchanged a quick glance with Adrian and Mateo; their faces were pale but resolute. None of us wanted to yield to Evelyn's twisted games or Aiden's duplicity. But as much as it pained me to even consider it, fighting back seemed like signing our own death warrants. A muscle ticked in Adrian's jaw as he gave an almost imperceptible nod. Mateo's hand twitched by his side, but he too seemed resigned to our fate. With every fiber of my being screaming in protest, I stepped forward. "We'll come willingly," I said through gritted teeth. It felt like swallowing shards of glass – bitter and sharp – but it was our only choice. Evelyn's smile widened into a triumphant grin as we moved toward them, her cohorts parting to make way for our surrender. Each step felt heavier than the last; I was acutely aware of the rustle of our clothing and the muffled thuds of our footsteps echoing in the cavernous space. As we approached them, my mind raced with thoughts of Eric and all I had hoped to achieve here in Amazonia – now slipping through my fingers like sand. But deep down, beneath layers of fear and resignation, a small ember of defiance still glowed hot and unyielding. Whatever Evelyn had planned for us next, I wasn't going to make it easy for her.

Chapter 12: Au revoir les enfants Adrian leaned close, his blue eyes piercing with a rare intensity. "We need to play the part," he whispered, as if the walls themselves might betray us. My gut churned. "You mean act like we're actually buying into Evelyn's... daycare regime?" "Exactly," Adrian nodded, his voice a low hum of conviction. "We behave, play the perfect littles she expects us to be. That way, she lets her guard down." The idea clawed at me, leaving a sour taste in my mouth. The notion of surrendering even a shred of my pride to that woman's twisted game felt like swallowing nails. Yet, the spark of rebellion within me flickered at the thought of outsmarting her. "But that means..." I hesitated, the words sticking like tar. "We'd have to embrace every humiliation." Adrian's gaze didn't waver. "It's all a facade, Bixente. A strategic deception. We give her what she wants to see on the surface, but underneath, we're biding our time, waiting for our moment." I mulled over his words, my mind racing with images of submission—of pacifiers and footed pajamas—each one a dagger to my autonomy. But then there was the flip side: freedom and access to the materials we needed. "We keep up this act until we pull off the heist?" I asked, searching Adrian's face for any sign of doubt. He answered with the ghost of a smirk. "Precisely. Once we have what we need, it's game over for her." It was madness, a high-stakes gamble with our dignity as the wager. Yet, it was also genius—a chance to turn the tables on Evelyn Harrow and reclaim control over our lives. I exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of our charade settling onto my shoulders like armor. "Alright," I said at last, meeting Adrian's unwavering gaze. "We'll do it your way." Adrian clapped me on the back—a gesture both encouraging and conspiratorial. "Trust me," he said with a confidence that almost made me believe him. "We'll have them wrapped around our fingers." And so we shook on it—a pact sealed not with handshakes but with a shared resolve to beat Evelyn Harrow at her own twisted game. Adrian slipped into the lecture hall, a slight swagger in his step, a bag slung over his shoulder. He navigated through the maze of seats until he found me, slouched over my notes. With a quick glance around to ensure we weren't drawing attention, he leaned in close and offered a bottle of water and a chocolate bar from the bag. I eyed the items warily, memories of past humiliations creeping up like shadows. "Do we really need to go this far?" I muttered, the words laced with doubt. Adrian's blue eyes locked onto mine, and he nodded solemnly. "It's part of the plan, Bix. We've got to sell it." The idea of willingly walking into the lion's den sent shivers down my spine. I took the bottle and unwrapped the chocolate, its sweet scent a stark contrast to the bitterness welling inside me. "But this..." I started, only to be cut off by Adrian's firm tone. "Listen," he said, placing a hand on my shoulder in an almost brotherly fashion. "We do this now, we control the narrative. It's all about appearances. If Evelyn believes we're broken, she'll relax her watchful eyes." I grimaced at the thought but couldn't deny the logic in his words. The water felt cool in my hand, an innocent disguise for the treachery it contained. With a sigh that felt like surrender, I twisted open the cap and took a long gulp, chasing it with a bite of chocolate that suddenly tasted like defeat. Adrian watched me with an unreadable expression before partaking himself. "It won't be long now," he murmured after finishing his share. I nodded silently, the reality of our pact settling heavily upon me. We had committed to this path, and there was no turning back. As the laxative and diuretics began their work within us, I realized that we were not just deceiving Evelyn; we were testing our own limits in ways I never imagined possible. With each sip and nibble, Adrian and I braced ourselves for what was to come—a performance that demanded every ounce of our willpower. The cafeteria buzzed with the noise of chatter and clinking cutlery, a symphony of normalcy that felt alien to me. Adrian and I navigated through the sea of tables, painfully aware of the state we were in. The fabric of our pants clung awkwardly, revealing the sodden bulge beneath. Whispers trailed us like shadows, some loud enough to cut through the din. "Looks like the kiddos had a little accident," a voice jeered from somewhere behind us. I kept my head down, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other, but the comments clawed at my pride. "Did baby need his diaper changed?" another snickered, followed by laughter that seemed to echo off the walls. My cheeks burned, but it was Adrian's tight jaw and clenched fists that reminded me we were both on the brink. The cafeteria might as well have been a coliseum, and we were unwilling gladiators at its center. It was then that Evelyn's voice sliced through the commotion. "Oh, mes petits chéris," she cooed with an affected sweetness that soured my stomach. "Come over here to mommy." The word 'mommy' reverberated around us, and I felt my dignity crumble further. I exchanged a glance with Adrian; we knew playing along was our only way out of this public spectacle. We approached her table where she sat flanked by her friends, who watched us with thinly veiled amusement. Evelyn's eyes were all mock concern as she addressed us like we were no more than three years old. "Tell mommy what happened to your diapees," she instructed, gesturing for us to speak up. I took a breath that did little to steady me. "My diaper is... messy," I admitted through gritted teeth, feeling every ounce of my seventeen years bearing down on me. "And wet," Adrian added, his voice laced with bitterness. Evelyn clapped her hands together as if we'd just performed a trick for her enjoyment. "Oh dear! We can't have that now, can we? Let's go get you both cleaned up." Her tone was saccharine as she stood up from her seat. Morning sunlight streamed through the windows, casting long shadows across our room. I lingered near the edge of the room, watching Evelyn with careful eyes as she moved with an air of authority among my peers. The night had been long, my mind turning over Adrian's plan and what I needed to do. Taking a deep breath, I mustered all the youthful innocence I could into my expression and approached her. My heart hammered in my chest, each beat a reminder of the act I was about to perform. "Um, Miss Evelyn?" My voice wavered, a touch higher than usual as if nervousness had taken hold. She turned towards me, her gaze sharp yet expectant. "Yes, Bixente? What is it you need?" I fidgeted with the hem of my shirt, a calculated gesture. "I was thinking... maybe it would be really good for my studies if I could go to the fablab. I want to do better in class." The words came out in a hopeful stammer, painting the picture of a Little seeking approval. Evelyn's lips curved into a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Oh? And why do you think that would help you?" Her tone was light, but there was an edge to it—a predator playing with its prey. I swallowed hard, feeling like I was walking on a tightrope. "Well," I continued, feigning a childlike earnestness, "I could practice more with the machines and maybe build something really cool! It might even impress Professor Madsen!" She considered this for a moment, her head tilting slightly as if amused by my request. "You want to impress your professor?" she asked, her voice dripping with honeyed condescension. My cheeks flushed on cue. "Yes, Miss Evelyn," I answered, keeping my gaze lowered in a display of submission. "I just want to be good at something here." Evelyn reached out and patted my head patronizingly. "Well then," she said with a soft chuckle, "I suppose it can't hurt to let you try. You may go to the fablab." Her words were laced with satisfaction at what she perceived as my growing reliance on her guidance. My heart leaped at her acquiescence but I kept my expression neutral. "Thank you so much!" The relief in my voice sounded genuine even to my own ears. "And Adrian," she added thoughtfully, as if considering how far she could extend her control over us, "he may access the library too." I nodded eagerly. "Thank you! We'll be super careful and study lots!" Evelyn watched me for a moment longer before dismissing me with a wave of her hand. Evelyn sat in her elegantly furnished office, her icy gaze fixed on the intricate device she was manipulating. In the dim light, she dialed a number on her sleek communicator. The holographic screen flickered to life, revealing Aiden Ricoh's smirking face. "Aiden," she began, her voice laced with a chilling calmness that belied the urgency of her message. The corners of Aiden's mouth curled up in an amused smile as he leaned back in his chair. "Evelyn," he responded, his voice betraying a hint of curiosity. "I need you to start the preparations," she instructed, not wasting any time on pleasantries. Aiden raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Already?" he asked. He knew better than to question Evelyn's judgement, but the suddenness of the request caught him off guard. "Yes," Evelyn replied firmly. "Our littles might be in action within a few days." Aiden's eyes widened slightly at this revelation. He'd been aware of Evelyn's plans, but he hadn't expected things to escalate so quickly. However, he trusted Evelyn's instincts implicitly. If she said it was time to act, then it was time to act. "I understand," Aiden responded after a moment of silence, his playful demeanor replaced by one of determination. "I'll get everything ready." "Good," Evelyn replied curtly before disconnecting the call. * * * The fablab is like something out of a sci-fi movie, with molecular 3D printers and AI augmented discovery benches all around. The sheer magnitude of the technology at my fingertips is overwhelming, but in the best possible way. I feel like a kid in a candy store, eager to explore and create with all these amazing tools. As I step into the lab, my eyes widen with excitement. The sleek, advanced machinery hums softly in the background, adding to the futuristic atmosphere. I can't help but feel a surge of inspiration as I imagine the endless possibilities that await me in this incredible space. The 3D printers stand like sentinels, ready to bring my wildest ideas to life with just a few commands. The AI benches promise a wealth of knowledge and support, enhancing my capabilities as an aspiring engineer. It's like stepping into a whole new world, one where innovation knows no bounds. I take a moment to soak it all in, feeling grateful for the opportunity to learn and grow in this extraordinary environment. With each machine and piece of equipment, I see potential waiting to be unlocked, and I'm eager to dive headfirst into this technological wonderland. I settled at a bench designed for someone of my stature, the surface smooth and inviting. The bench's size made me feel less out of place, a welcome respite from the towering world around me. The specialized AI interface blinked to life as I approached, its screen casting a cool glow in the dimly lit space. "Bonjour," I greeted the AI, still a bit awkward talking to a machine like it was a person. "Good day, Bixente. How may I assist you today?" The AI's voice was neutral, almost soothing in its precision. "I need to design a sonic screwdriver!," I began, rolling out the schematic Mateo had given me across the desk. "It's got to be discreet, multifunctional, and most importantly, undetectable by standard security measures." The AI hummed as if processing my words. "Understood. Please input the primary specifications you require for the sonic screwdriver." I leaned in closer to the screen, tapping into my inner engineer as I rattled off a series of technical requirements. "It should incorporate a quantum-tunneling chip for bypassing electronic locks. And let's not forget an adaptive algorithm to learn and mimic access codes." "Quantum-tunneling can be achieved using nanofabricated circuits," the AI chimed in. "However, incorporating an adaptive algorithm requires additional processing power which may increase the device's size." I nodded thoughtfully. "Okay, then let's use a crystal lattice structure for the chip—it'll keep it compact. And for power, how about micro-kinetic cells? They can harness ambient energy, so we won't need conventional batteries." "A feasible approach," the AI confirmed. "Micro-kinetic cells will also reduce maintenance requirements and improve longevity." We went back and forth like this for a while—me throwing out ideas and technobabble like it was second nature, and the AI providing immediate feedback on feasibility and design integration. Finally, with the design fleshed out to my satisfaction and approved by my electronic counterpart, I leaned back with a sigh of contentment. "All right, let's produce six units of this bad boy." "Commencing production now," responded the AI as its internal mechanisms whirred into action. I watched with bated breath as molecular 3D printers began constructing the devices layer by layer from exotic materials that were once beyond my wildest dreams. This was more than just tech; it was hope—hope that Adrian, Mateo, and I could level the playing field at Emerson University. I watch in awe as the first unit materializes before my eyes. It's like witnessing magic as the intricate components take shape and form, coming together to create the universal unlocker. I can't help but feel a sense of pride as each unit is produced, knowing that I've played a part in bringing this innovative creation to life. As the last unit is completed, I can't contain my excitement. "We did it!" I exclaim triumphantly. The AI interface responds with a congratulatory message, acknowledging our successful collaboration in producing the devices. I carefully gather the units, feeling a renewed sense of determination and confidence in my abilities as an engineer. I slid another schematic across the bench, my earlier success bolstering my confidence. This one was a pet project, something I'd been toying with back home. The AI scanned the paper with a low hum, the interface flickering with data streams that analyzed every line and curve I had drawn. It was an odd feeling, handing over something so personal to a machine, but in this place, the machine felt almost like a collaborator, an extension of my own creative process. "Analyzing schematic," the AI announced in its measured tone. "Please stand by." As I waited for the AI to complete its performance, I leaned back in my chair, arms crossed over my chest. I thought about Adrian and Mateo, about our shared resolve to defy expectations and claim our place in this world. The schematics might have been mine, but the rebellion? That belonged to all of us. This was more than just an assignment or a school project. This was our statement of intent—a declaration that we would not be underestimated or overlooked. That we were more than what they saw when they looked down at us from their lofty heights. As I waited for the AI's performance to conclude, I felt an ember of rebellion flicker into flame within me. We were playing a dangerous game, but it was one we intended to win. And with each passing second in this fablab haven, that win felt less like a distant dream and more like an inevitable triumph waiting just beyond the horizon. “Printing…” announced the AI. *** In the silence of her office, Dean Norris sat contemplatively, the walls lined with diplomas and accolades that spoke of her authoritative presence in Emerson University. The soft glow of her desk lamp illuminated her features, etching shadows that played across her stoic face. Her eyes, sharp and discerning, scanned the documents strewn before her when the phone buzzed. "Dean Norris," she answered crisply. "Dean, it's Argos. I've completed my analysis." Her fingers stilled. Argos only contacted her directly when matters were grave. She leaned forward, her attention honed on the AI's synthesized voice emanating from the speaker. "Go on," she prompted. "There's a pattern," Argos began. "Evelyn Harrow and her Nest have been increasingly active. My algorithms detect irregularities in their schedules, secretive communications, and an unusual influx of resources. All indicators suggest an impending event – likely an auction involving Littles." A chill settled in the room despite the ambient warmth. Dean Norris processed the information with a frown knitting her brow. An auction meant that vulnerable students could be traded like commodities in some shadowy corner of a universe that prided itself on advanced morality. "What's your recommendation?" she asked, already formulating strategies. "I advise caution," Argos said after a calculated pause. "Intervention now could spook them and drive the operation underground. It's better to monitor and gather incontrovertible evidence." Dean Norris nodded to herself, though Argos couldn't see. It was a prudent course of action, yet it churned her stomach to think of doing nothing as the plot thickened. "Keep me updated on every move they make," she instructed. "As you wish," replied Argos before the line went dead. Dean Norris leaned back in her chair, tapping a pen against the mahogany surface of her desk. She considered their options – few as they were – with meticulous care. To act prematurely would risk everything; they needed solid proof if they were to protect their Littles and uphold the university's integrity. She reached for another device and dialed a secure number known only to a select few within the Littles Protection Service (LPS). A voice answered on the second ring. "It's Norris. We may have a situation developing with Evelyn Harrow," she began without preamble. She relayed Argos' findings, her words concise and grave. On the other end of the line, there was silence as her contact absorbed the gravity of what was unfolding within their walls. "We'll hold back for now," Dean Norris continued, echoing Argos' counsel. "Monitor closely and prepare to act on my command." "Acknowledged," came the steady reply. The conversation ended with a mutual understanding that hung heavily in the air – an unspoken commitment to protect those who couldn't protect themselves. Dean Norris stood up from her desk and walked over to the window that looked out onto the campus below. Students milled about in ignorant bliss of what transpired in hidden places among those they trusted. The weight of leadership bore down on Dean Norris' shoulders like Atlas carrying the world, but she stood resolute against it, determined to bring light into whatever darkness lurked within Emerson University's esteemed halls.

If only it was that simple Yes, Evelyn is a major in psychology and played mindf* with the boys like her dreaded punishment Bix which is empty. Thanks. I got the feeling you are in for a ride thanks all for your comments. I try my best to bring something interesting to that universe and hope you like it.

If only it was that simple Yes, Evelyn is a major in psychology and played mindf* with the boys like her dreaded punishment Bix which is empty. Thanks. I got the feeling you are in for a ride thanks all for your comments. I try my best to bring something interesting to that universe and hope you like it.

Chapter 11: Dusk at the nest I shuffled down the hall, each step a crinkling proclamation of my status. It was a symphony of rustling fabric and muffled plastic, an anthem for the unwillingly swaddled. I caught sight of other Littles, their strides just as tentative, diapers just as conspicuous beneath their pants. "Hey, pampers parade, need a hand?" A Big leaned against the wall, a smirk stretching across his face. I kept walking, head held high, even as my cheeks burned hotter than a supernova. "Just headin' to class, thanks," I shot back with as much dignity as I could muster. Another Big chimed in from across the corridor, "Make sure you don't sit too hard, wouldn't want to pop your padding!" Laughter echoed off the walls like an unwelcome chorus. I bit back a retort and pushed forward. We were an army of unwilling infants marching to knowledge's beat—a bizarre contrast that would be hilarious if it weren't so humiliating. Finally reaching the lecture room, I made a beeline for the littles' section. My chair loomed like a beacon of shame with its child-proof harness and diminutive size. I lowered myself onto the cushion, wincing at the telltale crinkle. "Looks like someone's soggy," a voice boomed from behind me. I turned to see one of those towering Bigs leering down at me. "Just focused on my studies," I said, hoping my voice didn't betray the frustration gnawing at me. "Sure you are," she chuckled. "But if you need a change, don't hesitate to ask. We've got plenty of practice with littles like you." I forced a tight-lipped smile. "Won't be necessary." She feigned disappointment, her lips curling into a pout. "Such a big boy answer! But remember, help is just a waddle away." I settled into the harness, trying to ignore the crinkles under me. The room filled up, a buzz of pre-class chatter bouncing around. My mind raced through the mechanics notes I had scribbled last night when the professor strode in, all business and no smile. "Good morning. I hope you're ready, because today we've got a little surprise for you—a test." The words slammed into me like a rogue wave. A test? Now? My heart hammered, and I felt the heat rising to my face. I wasn't ready for this—not even close. The class erupted into murmurs and groans, everyone caught off guard. But for me, it was more than just a surprise; it was a nightmare scenario. "Aw man, I can't believe this," I muttered under my breath. I leaned closer, my voice low. "Didn't see this coming. I didn't study enough." I drummed my fingers on the desk, trying to summon some scrap of knowledge from the depths of my brain. It felt like every formula and fact had decided to take a vacation right when I needed them most. The professor started passing out the test tablets, and I could feel the weight of each step he took toward me. It was like time was slowing down, each second stretching out as he got closer. My palms were slick against the desktop, my mind racing for anything that could save me from bombing this test. "Come on, Bixente," I whispered to myself. "You gotta pull something outta thin air here." The tablet landed on my desk with a soft thud, and I stared down at it like it was written in some alien script. The questions blurred before my eyes as panic tightened its grip. I gripped the pencil tight enough to snap it and forced myself to focus on the first question. Maybe if I started writing—anything—my brain would kick into gear. Here went nothing… * * * I collapsed onto a bench beside Adrian in the statue garden, the marble figures towering above us. The sun filtered through the foliage, casting dappled shadows on our path. Here, among the still giants of stone, a tranquil hush settled over us—a sharp contrast to the turmoil inside. "Man, that test tore me apart," I muttered, running a hand through my hair. "Felt like it was written for a genius, not a kid from the Pyrenees." Adrian stretched out his legs, his eyes scanning the sculptures. "I hear you. It was as if they designed it to crush our spirits. Not just challenge us." I snorted. "Crush our spirits? Sounds like they're succeeding. My brain's fried." He glanced at me, a wry smile curling his lips. "Well, at least we're in this mess together." "Yeah," I said with a half-hearted chuckle. "Together in misery." Adrian's gaze drifted back to the statues. "They expect too much. Like we've got all of Amazonia's knowledge crammed in our heads." "Tell me about it." I leaned back, feeling the cool stone against my skin. "I studied mechanics, not... whatever that was." "Business organization wasn't any kinder." Adrian's voice carried a note of frustration that surprised me. "Thought you'd ace it with your eyes closed." I eyed him curiously. He scoffed, "Even my eyes wide open struggled to keep up today." We sat in silence for a moment, each lost in our thoughts amid the serenity of the garden. Mateo shuffled toward us, his brow furrowed and lips pursed in a grim line. He dropped onto the bench opposite us, the garden's stillness embracing his sudden arrival. "You guys talking about the test?" he asked, his voice a low murmur. "Yeah," I replied, sitting up straighter. "It was brutal." He nodded, his eyes narrowing. "It's not just you. They're rigged, I'm sure of it." Adrian leaned forward, interest piqued. "Rigged? How can you be so sure?" Mateo glanced around before leaning in closer. "I've been talking to some others—Littles who've been here longer. They say it's been happening for years." A chill ran down my spine. "But why? What's the point?" "To keep us in line, make sure we don't get too confident," Mateo said, his voice laced with bitterness. Adrian scoffed. "So we're just pawns in their game?" "It seems so," Mateo said, then hesitated. "But I've joined a... group. We're determined to beat them at their own game." "A group?" I echoed, intrigued despite myself. Mateo's lips twisted into a sly grin. "Yeah, a secret club of Littles who want to succeed at all costs. We're tired of being treated like kids who can't do anything right." Adrian sat back, arms crossed over his chest. "And what exactly does this club plan to do?" "We have a plan," Mateo said with a conspiratorial gleam in his eye. "To infiltrate the university library." "The library?" I frowned. "What for?" Mateo's grin widened. "They keep special study materials there—resources that could help Littles like us succeed." My heart raced at the thought of breaking rules, but the prospect of leveling the playing field was too tempting to ignore. I leaned in, my pulse quickening. "Infiltrate the library, you say?" The idea ignited something fierce within me—a flame of rebellion against the constraints tightening around us. "I'm in. Tell me more." Adrian arched an eyebrow, the skepticism clear on his face. "Hold on a minute, Bix. Do you understand what Mateo is suggesting? This isn't just some prank—it's breaking into a restricted area." I shot him a look, the fire in my belly turning my words sharp. "And? We've been boxed in since day one, Adrian. Haven't you had enough of playing by their twisted rules?" He sighed, his fingers drumming on the marble bench. "It's not about rules, Bix. It's about consequences. Getting caught could mean expulsion—or worse." Mateo leaned back, his expression unfazed. "That's why we're careful. We've got a plan, a good one." I nodded eagerly, leaning closer still. "We can't just sit around while they play us for fools. What's life without a little risk?" Adrian's eyes narrowed as he weighed the situation. "And if we're adopted out because of this stunt? You ready to spend your days in a playpen?" I scoffed at the image he conjured, yet it couldn't quell my resolve. "Better than spending them in a lecture hall getting my hopes smashed to bits." Mateo chuckled softly, approvingly. "That's the spirit, Bix." Adrian shook his head but I could see the resolve building behind his eyes—a calculated risk taker assessing the odds. Mateo caught the shift in the air, the hesitation rolling off Adrian like fog over the bay. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, eyes locked onto Adrian's. "Think about it, man. This could change everything for us—for all the Littles here. We could finally get a leg up in this place." I watched Adrian's face, the interplay of light and shadow as he mulled over Mateo's words. The usual arrogance seemed to melt away, leaving behind a man wrestling with uncertainty. I felt it too—the tremble of excitement mingled with a whisper of fear. We were teetering on the edge of something big, something that could either be our making or our undoing. Adrian rubbed his chin, a thoughtful gesture that betrayed his inner turmoil. "Benefits, huh?" He finally broke the silence. "What kind of benefits are we talking about here?" Mateo's smile was like the first break of dawn after a long night. "Access to exams from previous years, study guides that are off-limits to most students, insider tips on professors' quirks—you name it." I leaned back against the cool marble, my mind racing with possibilities. This was more than just breaking rules; it was a chance to take control of our own destiny in this oversized world. Adrian's eyes narrowed as he processed everything. He glanced at me and then back at Mateo. "Alright," he said slowly, "I'll think about it. No promises, but... I'll consider what you've said." Mateo stood up with a nod, a silent understanding passing between them. "Good. That's all I ask." He clapped a hand on my shoulder as he passed by me. "I'll be in touch." As he strode away, his confidence seemed to leave an echo in the garden's quietude. I watched him go, feeling my heartbeat drum against my chest like a restless bird eager to take flight. Adrian and I sat there for a few moments longer, the weight of our decision pressing down on us like the thick heat before a storm. "Are we really doing this?" I asked him, not entirely sure if I wanted to hear his answer. Adrian met my gaze with an intensity that surprised me. "We're considering it," he corrected me firmly. "There's no harm in thinking things through." I nodded slowly, knowing he was right but also feeling the pull of Mateo's promise tugging at me stronger than ever. We got up from the bench and walked back towards the dorms in silence—each lost in thought and wrapped in our own brand of cautious hope and myself in a diaper. * * * Adrian and I ducked into the cafeteria, the hum of conversation wrapping around us like a thick blanket. We snagged a corner table, the kind that offered a view but promised some privacy. He grabbed a couple of sodas and I pulled out some chocolate bars from my pocket, unwrapping one with eager fingers. "Something's up with Mateo," Adrian mused, taking a swig from his can. "Dude's always been a bit of an enigma, but today... felt different." I nodded, biting into the chocolate. "Yeah, I noticed that too. Like he's hiding something big." Adrian leaned in, his eyes scanning the room before locking on mine. "You don't think he's in trouble, do you?" Before I could answer, my communicator buzzed against my thigh. The screen flashed Evelyn's name and my heart sank like a stone in water. "She wants us back at the Nest," I said, showing Adrian the message. A knot tightened in my stomach as I stood up. The familiar warmth spreading across my groin betrayed me—I was peeing my diaper right there amidst the sea of students. Adrian caught the shift in my expression. "You okay?" he asked, concern etched across his face. "Just... nervous," I admitted, trying to shake off the shame. We tossed our trash and headed out, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on us with each step back to the Nest. * * * The Nest swallowed us whole, a place where autonomy faded faster than the sun in winter. I trudged into the room, my wet diaper an uncomfortable squish with every step. The fabric chafed against my skin, a relentless reminder of the infantile state I'd been forced into. Adrian, beside me, stripped down to his pull-ups—a slight upgrade from my own state, but humiliating nonetheless. His eyes avoided mine, fixed on some invisible point in the distance. Evelyn's voice cut through the silence like a bell at a funeral. "Good job, Adrian! Such a big boy, keeping your pull-ups dry," she cooed in that overly sweet tone reserved for toddlers. I cringed as her gaze landed on me. "And Bix, it's perfectly fine for a little boy to wet his diapee. That's what they're there for," she chirped, her words dripping with an infantilizing poison that made my skin crawl. The air hung thick with a mix of approval and condescension as she inspected us like we were on display at some twisted exhibition. Adrian nodded stiffly, his posture rigid with pride or perhaps just resistance to Evelyn's demeaning praise. I swallowed the lump in my throat, a futile attempt to keep my dignity intact. "Yeah," I muttered, trying to shrug it off like it didn't matter that I was standing there in a soaked diaper while being talked down to as if I were three years old again. But inside? Inside I seethed with a silent fury that threatened to boil over at any moment. Evelyn perched on a beam seat, her legs crossed with the air of a queen holding court. She beckoned us closer, her fingers performing a little twirl in the air. I could feel the invisible strings tugging at us, pulling us into her web. "Come here, my little ones," she called out, her voice a syrupy concoction of feigned warmth and hidden thorns. Adrian and I exchanged glances before stepping forward, each footfall heavy with dread. The air seemed to grow colder as we approached, the distance closing between us and whatever ill fate awaited. Evelyn unfolded a piece of paper with a flourish, her smile wide but her eyes cold. "I have your test results," she announced. The way she said it, you'd think she was about to hand out candy instead of confirming our failure. Her eyes danced over the paper as she tutted theatrically. "Oh dear," she cooed, shaking her head in mock disappointment. "It seems you didn't do as well as we'd hoped." I bit my lip hard enough to taste iron, trying to anchor myself in the pain rather than the shame that threatened to overwhelm me. Adrian stood next to me, his gulp loud in the hush that had fallen over the room. Evelyn's voice dropped an octave as she leaned forward, eyes locked on ours. "But that's okay," she purred. "We'll just have to find other ways to help you learn and grow." Her words clung to me like cobwebs, sticky and unwelcome. I could feel my face flush with anger and embarrassment as she continued to speak down to us like we were nothing more than misbehaving toddlers who couldn't grasp the simplest lesson. Adrian's hand clenched into a fist at his side; I could see the muscles in his jaw twitching with the effort it took not to lash out. We were caught in Evelyn's game, and every patronizing word tightened the noose around our necks. My knees dug into the soft fabric of Evelyn's skirt as she perched me precariously over her lap, Adrian positioned likewise, his face twisted in a mix of disbelief and rage. Her hand, a specter of impending pain, hovered in the air with an authority that belied its seemingly delicate form. "Well, Bixente," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "it seems that you both failed your tests today. I'm not sure how you managed to do so poorly, but it's clear that you need some extra help in understanding the material." I exchanged glances of shame and embarrassment with Adrian as we listened to her patronizing words. We knew that we had let ourselves down and disappointed our adult caretakers once again. Without another word, Miss Evelyn turned her attention to Adrian and pulled down his pull-up, exposing his bare bottom to the cool air of the Nest. Her hand came down hard on his left cheek first, followed by a stinging slap on his right cheek moments later. The sound echoed through the room like a gunshot in silence as tears welled up in Adrian's eyes and trickled down his face like raindrops on glass. His body jerked with each impact as if trying to escape from her relentless assault on his most vulnerable spot. Despite the pain coursing through him like wildfire, Adrian didn't resist or fight back; instead, he accepted his punishment with quiet resignation as if this was just another part of life in this strange new world where adults held all the power over their helpless little charges. "Please, Miss Evelyn," Adrian pleaded between sobs, "I promise I'll try harder next time." As Miss Evelyn continued to spank Adrian, she turned her attention back to me, delivering another round of stinging slaps to my already sore bottom. The pain was intense, like a thousand needles piercing my skin with each impact. I cried out in agony, my body bucking wildly beneath her hand as I struggled to endure the unbearable pain. We both cried out in pain and humiliation as we were simultaneously punished for our transgressions. Our bodies writhed and twisted beneath her hands as we begged for mercy, but Miss Evelyn showed no signs of relenting. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of punishment, Miss Evelyn stopped spanking us both at once and turned her attention to one boy at a time. She continued to spank us individually until she was satisfied that we had been sufficiently chastised for our misbehavior. "Now," she said softly but firmly, "let's get you two changed and ready for bed." Her words were meant to comfort but they only deepened the sting of our wounded pride. * * * Tears stung my cheeks, the hot imprint of Miss Evelyn's hand still seared across my skin. I couldn't remember the last time I felt so small, so utterly powerless. Adrian lay beside me, his breaths shuddering into whimpers. We were two grown men, tucked into cribs that mocked our age with bars and pastel bedding. The nest was quiet now, the echoes of our spankings just a haunting memory in the dim light. My backside throbbed with each pulse, a constant reminder of our public shaming. The thick diaper crinkled beneath me as I shifted, trying to find a sliver of comfort on the stiff mattress. Adrian's voice cracked through the silence. "Man, this is messed up." I turned to face him, seeing his silhouette blurred by my watery vision. "Yeah," I choked out. "I can't believe this is happening." He sniffled, and I heard the rustle of his own diaper as he moved. "We gotta get through this, Bix. For our pride." Eventually, exhaustion won over shame and discomfort. My eyes fluttered closed, and for just a moment, I forgot where I was—until the crinkle of my diaper brought it all crashing back. * * * I shuffled alongside Adrian, the padding between my legs a constant reminder of Evelyn's harsh discipline. My skin still smarted from the spanking, and I could tell Adrian felt the same. His jaw clenched with every step we took toward the cafeteria. "This is ridiculous, Bix," Adrian muttered, casting a glare at nothing in particular. "We're not children to be paraded around in diapers." I nodded, my own frustration mirroring his. "Yeah, I know. It's like we're back in nursery school." As we turned a corner, Mateo came into view, his gait as awkward as ours. The same telltale bulk under his pants suggested he'd also faced his nest mother’s wrath. "Hey," I called out to him, trying to sound casual despite the tension. Mateo stopped and offered a half-smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Bix, Adrian. Rough morning?" "You could say that," Adrian scoffed. "Seems like we're all in the same boat." Mateo's eyes flicked down to our midsections and back up again. "Yeah, seems like it." I cleared my throat, glancing around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. "Listen, about what you mentioned earlier..." "The library?" Mateo's voice dropped to a whisper. Adrian shot a cautious look around before nodding. "We're interested. But we need to talk details." "Meet me at the statues garden during lunch," Mateo suggested with a conspiratorial edge. "We'll be there," I confirmed, feeling a mix of apprehension and anticipation. With a subtle nod of agreement from all of us, we parted way. * * * The day dragged like a boat against the tide. Lectures blurred into one another, professors' words echoing off the walls and settling somewhere far beyond my reach. Every tick of the clock, a reminder of the wetness wrapped snug between my legs, a secret shame under my uniform . As I trudged through the halls, Bigs lounged against the walls, their laughter booming over my head. They'd throw me a look, eyes glinting with mischief, and I knew what followed. "Aw, little guy needs a change?" The sarcasm stung worse than the dampness. I'd force a grin, pretending their words were nothing but a breeze I could brush away. By the time I reached our meeting spot, the sky had pulled its dark blanket tight. I pushed the door open and spotted Adrian and Mateo. A wave rolled off my hand as I approached them. "Hey," I said, keeping my voice steady despite the day's toll. "Hope your day's been drier than mine." * * * Mateo's eyes flickered with a sly intelligence as he laid out the plan. "We keep the cards close, guys. No leaks until the eleventh hour," he whispered, his gaze darting around the room. I leaned in, intrigued despite the knot of anxiety in my stomach. "Secret drops? Sounds like spy stuff." Adrian snorted, crossing his arms. "And if we get caught?" "We won't," Mateo said with a confidence that made me want to believe him. "But we need tech to back us up. Bix, you're the whiz. I need you to build something for us." I raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. "It's a device," Mateo continued, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper and smoothing it on the table. It was a schematic, lines and symbols that spoke to me like a second language. "This baby will get us out of our cribs and open the doors without tripping any alarms." My fingers traced the lines of the diagram. The challenge sparked something in me—a defiance against this system that treated us like oversized infants. "Can you do it?" Mateo's eyes locked onto mine. A surge of excitement rushed through me as I studied the schematics. This was more than circuits and code; it was a shot at reclaiming our dignity. "Yeah," I said with a nod, feeling my heartbeat quicken. "I can make this happen." Adrian let out a low whistle. "Man, if you pull this off..." I folded the schematic carefully and tucked it into my pocket. "Then we start playing by our own rules."

Just picture yourself as student with your head full of dreams and getting yourself stuck in a world with untold rules made to destroy you. Once you realised that, it’s too late, you’re gone. Awful thought.

I think you won’t be disappointed by the next Act/chapter ‘An Emersonian job’… (big fat spoiler)

Chapter 10: Dawn’s unspoken truth Morning light peeked through the blinds, painting my crib in a pale, accusing glow. I stirred, the soggy weight around my waist dragging me from the fog of sleep. Confusion furrowed my brow. Not again. "Adrian, man, you awake?" My voice wavered, a cocktail of embarrassment and irritation. He grumbled something unintelligible, then jolted upright. "What the—?" His eyes met mine, mirroring my dismay. The same telltale heaviness weighed him down. Evelyn's heels clicked into the room like a metronome of doom. "Good morning, boys." Her voice carried that chirpy edge that scraped against my already frayed nerves. "We're soaked," I spat out before I could stop myself. "How did this even happen?" Her tsk-tsk clanged in my ears as she fiddled with the crib's latch. "Now, now, no need for sour faces." I stumbled out of the crib, my pull-up squelching with each step—a stark reminder of my situation. Adrian wasn't faring any better; his mood was a thundercloud ready to burst. "You two have been very fussy lately," Evelyn said, her eyes narrowing just enough to remind us who was in charge. Adrian's lip curled into a sneer. "Maybe because we're not toddlers?" Her sigh fluttered through the room like a disappointed butterfly. "Today," she paused for effect, "you may choose boxers or pull-ups." The offer hung in the air between us—boxers were a scrap of dignity in this oversized nursery. But one glance at Adrian's guarded expression and I knew what we had to do. "We'll take the pull-ups," I said. It was a tactical retreat. Boxers offered no protection against unforeseen... incidents. We dressed in silence, the fabric of the pull-ups whispering secrets we wished we could forget. But with each tug of elastic around our legs, I felt a smidgeon of control return—a tiny victory against the day's uncertain battles. * * * The sun was just starting to flex its muscles, casting a warm glow over Emerson's park as Evelyn ushered us toward the cafeteria. The morning buzz of students swirled around us, a medley of laughter and conversation dancing through the air. I glanced at Adrian, whose face held a grimace that mirrored my own feelings. "You think they serve decent coffee here?" I asked, trying to ignore the snug fit of the diaper beneath my pants. Adrian shot me a look. "I wouldn't get my hopes up, Bix." We reached the cafeteria, its scents pulling us in—freshly baked bread, sizzling bacon, and yes, even coffee. The relief was almost palpable. I piled my plate high with eggs and sausage, making sure to pour myself a large cup of what I hoped would be my salvation. Evelyn watched us eat like a hawk overseeing her nestlings. Her gaze was unnerving, but I tried to focus on the food instead of her piercing eyes. Once breakfast was done and the last dregs of coffee had been sipped, we stood up. I felt the bulk between my legs shift—a constant reminder of where I stood in this world. "Got your schedule?" Adrian asked as we disposed of our trays. "Yeah," I said, pulling out the piece of paper from my pocket and unfolding it. "Looks like I've got Machina Design first thing." Adrian raised an eyebrow. "Mechanics? Interesting. I'm off to Strategic Market Theory myself." I nodded. "Guess we're splitting up then." "Seems like it," he replied. "Meet back here for lunch?" "Sure thing," I said, forcing a smile. We parted ways amidst the crowd, students brushing past us in their haste to start their days. * * * The brisk morning air nipped at my cheeks as I made my way across the sprawling campus. I fumbled with my communicator, a longing to hear Eric's voice gnawing at me. My thumb jabbed the screen, trying to bridge the distance with a simple call. "Come on, connect," I muttered, willing the stubborn device to work. My attempts met only silence, a glaring "Network Unavailable" flashing back at me. "Fucking piece of junk!" The words spilled out, frustration boiling over. A shadow loomed over me, and I tilted my head up to meet the disapproving gaze of a passing PA. She towered above me, her eyes narrow slits of disapproval. "At Emerson , we use our words wisely," she chided, her tone dripping with condescension. "Especially little boys who should know better." I clenched my jaw, heat creeping up my neck. "I'm not a little boy," I snapped back. But my defiance seemed to amuse her more than anything. "For that language, two demerits." She tapped something on her tablet, and I felt the sting of each point added to my record. I bit back the retort that threatened to earn me more trouble. Instead, I turned on my heel and stormed off toward the lecture hall, the taste of bitterness clinging to my tongue. As I trudged into the Machina Facultas building, my spirits were as heavy as the rain-laden clouds outside. Inside, the building sparkled with technological wonders, walls adorned with blueprints and models of futuristic machinery, suspended like stars in a mechanical cosmos. Sunlight streamed through the glass dome, illuminating the polished floor, a chessboard of innovation. My footsteps echoed in the atrium, blending with the hum of distant machinery and soft conversations. The air was fragrant with oil and metal, evoking memories of countless hours lost in the solitude of my own workshop. Frustrated, I ran a hand through my hair, trying to shake off the irritation. Entering my lecture room, I was struck by its grandeur. Desks ascended towards panoramic windows, and a holographic display flickered above the podium, showing floating cities and anti-gravity vehicles. In the lecture room, the atmosphere transformed, as if stepping into a realm where the future was being woven before my eyes. The holographic display flickered to life above the podium, casting an ethereal glow across the room. It projected models of antigravity engines, their intricate designs suspended in mid-air, a ballet of light and shadow. The engines rotated slowly, revealing complex layers and components that shimmered like jewels, their reflections dancing on the students’ awestruck faces. Around me, the air was charged with anticipation, a sharp contrast to the frustration that had gripped me moments before. As I took my seat, the soft hum of conversation around me felt like the murmur of a gathering storm of ideas. I ran my fingers over the cool, smooth surface of my desk, grounding myself in this moment of transformation. The professor stepped up to the podium, her presence immediately capturing the room’s attention. “Good morning, everyone. I’m Professor Elara Madsen, and I’ll be guiding you through the wonders of advanced engineering principles this semester,” she introduced herself with a warm, confident smile. Her eyes sparkled with the same intensity as the holograms she was about to discuss. “Today, we delve into the art of defying gravity,” she continued, her enthusiasm infectious. As she gestured towards the floating hologram, it responded, parts moving and aligning in an intricate dance of science and imagination. I leaned forward, my earlier irritation dissolving into a sense of wonder. Each explanation from Professor Madsen painted vivid strokes in my mind, turning complex theories into a tapestry of understanding. The way she described the gravitational fields and magnetic forces was not just technical, but almost poetic, making the invisible forces seem almost tangible. This was more than a lecture; it was an invitation into a world where the boundaries of physics bent and stretched. It was in these moments, surrounded by the potential of the future and the passion for discovery, that I felt my spirit lift. The frustration that had clouded my day faded, replaced by an insatiable curiosity and a renewed sense of purpose. * * * With a sigh of relief, I stepped out of the lecture hall. The morning's advanced engineering session had been an onslaught of complex theories and formulas, my mind whirling with the intricate details of quantum physics and dimensional theory. But I was in my element, every synapse firing in excitement. It was just what I needed to get through the morning. Adrian and I made our way to the cafeteria, a beacon of comfort after the intellectual rigor of our lectures. We slid into a table near the back, alongside a few other Littles from our classes. I tore into a sandwich, hunger gnawing at my insides. Adrian was mid-sentence, regaling us with some anecdote about Professor Dalton when the cafeteria doors swung open. All chatter ceased as everyone turned to look at the newcomer. "Hey guys, mind if I join you?" The voice was familiar. I turned around to find Mateo standing there, tray in hand. Adrian and I exchanged surprised glances. Mateo? He was supposed to be at our Nest too. I gave Mateo a nod, gesturing to the empty seat beside me. "Sure, pull up a chair," I said, my curiosity piqued by his sudden appearance. Mateo slid into the seat with a grateful smile, placing his tray on the table. He looked a little out of place with his different uniform – a variation of colors that set him apart from our group. "Thanks, Bix. It's been a wild first week." Adrian leaned back in his chair, eyeing Mateo with that familiar air of superiority. "Sorted into another nest? How did you manage that at the last minute?" he asked, his tone suggesting it was more than just idle curiosity. Mateo shrugged, his expression unreadable as he took a bite of his food. "Just some last-minute changes," he mumbled through his mouthful. "They didn't give me much of an explanation." "You didn't question it?" I prodded gently. It seemed strange for the administration to shuffle people around without reason. "There wasn't much time to question anything," Mateo replied after swallowing. "They just told me where to go, and I went." His eyes darted around the table before settling on his plate. I could tell there was more to it than he was letting on, but it wasn't like him to be so evasive. The Mateo I knew was always open about everything – maybe too open at times. Adrian snorted. "You're not very inquisitive for someone who's supposed to be at university," he commented dryly. Mateo gave Adrian a flat look but didn't rise to the bait. Instead, he changed the subject smoothly. "How's your first week been? You guys look like you've been through the wringer." The table erupted into laughter as we all shared stories of our own trials and tribulations – each tale more absurd than the last. Mateo's mystery faded into the background as we bonded over shared experiences. For a moment, I forgot about the strangeness of Amazonia and felt like just another university student swapping stories with friends. Time to move… * * * Stepping into the Nest, the air felt heavy, like a blanket of tension had settled over the place. Adrian and I locked eyes, a silent agreement passing between us—we weren't going down without a fight. Evelyn's heels clicked against the floor as she approached us, her face a mask of authority. "Boys, welcome back. There are new rules to follow here. From now on, you will wear only your underwear while in the Nest, and you will address me as Miss Evelyn." Adrian crossed his arms over his chest, his voice dripping with disdain. "You expect us to parade around half-naked? This is absurd." I nodded in agreement, my fists clenching at my sides. "Yeah, we're not your toddlers to dress and undress as you please." Miss Evelyn's eyes narrowed slightly, a sly smile playing on her lips. "Oh boys, don't make me remind you of Mommy's little helpers." Her tone was sugary sweet but laced with an icy threat. The color drained from Adrian's face as he muttered under his breath. "We're not afraid of your empty threats." With a swift motion, Miss Evelyn produced the box adorned with wailing cartoon figures from behind her back. "Empty? Oh no, my dear Adrian. You wouldn't want to end up like those little ones on the box now, would you?" I felt my resolve crumbling as she continued, her voice a velvet hammer smashing against our defiance. "And let's not forget what happens to naughty boys who don't follow the rules." Adrian's posture deflated like a punctured balloon. His sophisticated vocabulary abandoned him as he stuttered out a feeble response. "N-No... I suppose not." With a sigh that felt like surrender, I pulled my shirt over my head and slipped out of my pants, standing there in just my diaper. The cool air brushed against my skin, leaving me feeling exposed and small. Adrian followed suit, his movements robotic as he stripped down to his underwear. His face flushed with embarrassment as he avoided eye contact. Miss Evelyn circled us like a hawk eyeing its prey. "Good boys, and both dry…" she cooed mockingly. "Remember this lesson well—mommy doesn't make idle threats." As we stood there in defeat, the humiliation stung more than any spanking could. Adrian's usual arrogance had evaporated into thin air, leaving behind a boy who had met his match. And me? I just hoped Eric never had to see me like this—stripped of dignity and dressed down to nothing but a diaper and shame. Evelyn's gaze swept over us, a predator assessing her prey. "So, boys, tell me about your day," she cooed, the false sweetness in her voice setting my teeth on edge. I shuffled my feet, my eyes flicking to Adrian before settling on the pattern of the carpet. The memory of my clash with the PA itched at the back of my mind like a fresh mosquito bite. "It was good," I lied smoothly, the word feeling like sawdust in my mouth. "Learned a lot in class." Evelyn's eyes locked onto mine, and I felt a shiver crawl up my spine. "Is that so?" Her voice was syrupy with doubt. "Because, Bixente, if I recall correctly, swearing at university staff isn't generally considered 'good' behavior." My heart skipped a beat. How did she know? I swallowed hard, trying to maintain an innocent facade. "I didn't swear at anyone," I insisted, but my voice betrayed me with a slight quiver. She stepped closer, her presence overwhelming as she towered above me. "Lying is a nono, just like swearing," she chastised, her tone sharp as she wagged a finger in front of my face. The humiliation bubbled inside me like a pot about to boil over. "Now," Evelyn continued in that same condescending tone, "what do we say when we've been naughty?" I felt Adrian's eyes on me—piercing and cold. My cheeks flamed with embarrassment as I mumbled the dreaded words. "I'm sorry, Miss Evelyn." Her lips curled into a triumphant smile. "And what happens to little boys who tell lies and use bad words?" She closed the gap between us until I could smell her perfume—a mix of roses and something colder, like steel. "Lying is very naughty," she cooed, her voice dripping with condescension. Heat crept up my neck as she bent down to my level, her face inches from mine. "Now what do we do with little boys who tell fibs?" Adrian's eyebrows knitted together in concern—or was it curiosity?—as he watched the scene unfold. "You know the rules here," Miss Evelyn continued, her tone playful yet laced with an edge that cut through the air like a knife. I did know the rules, and my insides twisted at the thought of what came next. She stopped pacing and stood before me, her presence commanding attention. "Bixente, what should happen to a little boy who doesn’t tell the truth?" My heart hammered against my ribcage. I didn't want to say it—to give life to the words that would seal my fate—but Miss Evelyn waited patiently for me to seal my own doom. "I..." My voice was barely above a whisper as Adrian looked on, his face a mask of anticipation mixed with pity. "...should get spanked." "And?" Miss Evelyn prompted with a tilt of her head. "On... on my bare bottom," I finished, feeling every ounce of pride drain away. Miss Evelyn's lips curled into a satisfied smile as she clapped her hands together softly. "There we go! Wasn't so hard now, was it? Now come here and let's get this over with." Adrian shifted uncomfortably beside me as I took the dreaded walk towards Miss Evelyn, each step feeling like an eternity. As Miss Evelyn tugged my pull-up away and I felt the chilly air kiss my bare bottom, the feeling of abject shame was nearly too much. My heart was sprinting in my chest, and I teetered on the precipice of fright and regret. The first wallop descended with a sharp sting on my left side, and a fraction of a moment later, another swat set my right cheek ablaze. They rang out like claps of thunder, violating the silence and causing me to squirm and yelp. My face, mirroring my rear, flushed a deep crimson with the heat of tears and embarrassment. My bottom wriggled fruitlessly in an attempt to evade her firm hand, but every spanking strike found its mark undeniably. My childish whines became uncontrollable, "No no, please, no more , Miss Evelyn!" As the relentless onslaught of spanks continued, tenderizing my poor backside, my courage waned and gave way to unguarded vulnerability, a raw and despondent cry for lenience, "It huuurts, Miss Evelyn, please stop!" Miss Evelyn's response came firm and maternal, laden with condescension fit for a preschooler caught with his hand in the cookie jar, "Naughty boys who tell fibs need to learn their lesson," she chided sternly. "And big boys don't lie, do they, Bixente?" Her hand kept swatting, a metronome of discipline. My sobs and sniffles punctuated the rhythm of each spank as I blurted out apologies in a sing-song voice, full of distress, "I sowwy, Miss Evelyn. I be good! I wisten now!" By the time she deemed the punishment sufficient, every swat felt like a branding, searing a reminder into my tender skin. As I slumped to the floor, a hiccuppy mess, I certainly didn't feel seventeen. With Miss Evelyn standing over me, scolding continued as if addressing a toddler mid-tantrum, "Now, we're going to behave, aren't we? We’re going to be a good little boy and tell the truth from now on?" Amidst the post-spanking sniffles and the lingering sting, that’s when the feeling solidified—I’d truly been put back in my place, not just as a Little, but as a chastised child learning a hard, painful lesson. Corner time. It was a punishment fit for a misbehaving kindergartener, not a university student. But here I was, nose pressed against the cold wall, my red and stinging backside on full display to anyone who passed by. I could feel the heat radiating off my punished bottom, each pulse of my heartbeat reminding me of Evelyn's hand. I felt a hot blush creep up my neck at the thought of anyone seeing me like this. "Stay put, Bix," Evelyn's voice rang out, authoritative and stern. I heard her heels clicking away as she took a call in another room. Adrian was left to watch over me, his presence both comforting and humiliating. He stood behind me, probably smirking at the sight of his fellow Little relegated to such an embarrassing punishment. I wished he would leave, wished I could have a moment to myself to nurse my wounded pride. "Bix," Adrian said softly, ruffling my hair in an attempt to soothe me. "You gotta follow the rules, man." His words stung more than any spank Evelyn could dish out. I knew he was right, but it was easier said than done when you're being treated like a toddler. I felt the wall cool against my forehead as I leaned into it, letting out a sigh. My arms were starting to ache from being held above my head and I shifted slightly, trying to alleviate the discomfort. "No moving," Adrian reminded me. His voice was firm but not unkind. I nodded silently, biting back any retort that threatened to spill from my lips. This wasn't Adrian's fault. He was just trying to navigate this strange world same as me. The minutes ticked by agonizingly slow as I stood in the corner, every so often hearing Adrian's quiet movements behind me. Each passing second was a reminder of my status here in Amazonia - a Little, subjected to the rules and punishments of the Bigs. And as much as I hated it, I knew I had to play their game if I wanted to survive. As the time passed, my humiliation faded to a dull ache. I was here for a reason, and this was just one more hurdle to overcome. My resolve hardened. They could put me in timeout, spank me, dress me like a toddler, but they couldn't take away my determination. The sound of Evelyn's heels signaled the end of my corner time, and my stomach twisted with a fresh sense of dread. She emerged from the other room, her face set in a look of resolute authority. "Bixente," she began, her voice cool and measured. "You've shown you're not quite ready for big boy privileges." I tensed, the words hitting me like a physical blow. I kept my gaze fixed on the wall, not daring to turn around and face her. "For the next week, you'll be kept in diapers. No arguments." Her decree was final, leaving no room for negotiation. I swallowed hard, a bitter taste in my mouth. "Understood, Miss Evelyn," I said quietly, keeping my tone neutral despite the frustration boiling inside me. Evelyn nodded in approval, seemingly satisfied with my compliance. "Good boy. Let's get you ready for bed." The humiliation of being changed into a nighttime diaper was something I couldn't get used to. The cool air of the Nest brushed against my skin as I was stripped down and powdered. Evelyn worked efficiently, taping me into a thick diaper that crinkled with every movement. She pulled a pair of footed pajamas over my head, zipping them up with an air of finality, then focused herself on Adrian. "Sleep tight," she said with a hint of mockery as she led us to our cribs. I lay there in the darkness, staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to the ceiling above me. The bars of the crib cast long shadows across my pajamas, reminding me of my predicament. Beside me, Adrian shifted restlessly in his crib. We didn't speak; words were unnecessary when our shared experience spoke volumes. As sleep began to pull at the edges of my consciousness, I made a silent vow to myself. They could force me into diapers and treat me like a child, but they couldn't break my spirit. One week—I'd endure it and come out stronger on the other side. With that thought cradling me like a lullaby, I closed my eyes and surrendered to sleep's embrace, prepared for whatever tomorrow would bring.