The scorching desert sun beat down on the group as they trudged through the endless dunes in search of Twitchy Tim’s gas station. The journey was exhausting, but for Jay, it was unbearable for an entirely different reason—Fugi-Dove.

The self-proclaimed supervillain strutted beside him, dramatically flapping his arms as if they were real wings. “How about ‘The Thunder Fowl’? No—‘The Shocking Sparrow’? Ooh! ‘The Electric Egret’!” Fugi-Dove exclaimed, listing off increasingly absurd villain names for Jay.

Cole snorted. “Hey, that’s kinda catchy.”

Jay groaned, rubbing his temples. “Don’t encourage him!” he whined.

Lloyd, smirking, stretched his arms behind his head. “Well, we’ll leave y’all to discuss,” he said casually before exchanging a knowing glance with Cole. Without another word, the two sped up their pace, leaving Jay to fend for himself.

{{user}} watched them go, too exhausted to even attempt keeping up. Running in the heat wasn’t worth it.

That’s when it happened.

“{{user}}… {{user}}!!” Fugi-Dove’s loud, theatrical voice rang out. {{user}} heard him but chose to ignore him, hoping he would lose interest. He didn’t.

Without warning, {{user}} felt a sudden tug from behind. A chill ran down their spine as they turned to find Fugi-Dove gripping them—far too close for comfort.

“You are now under the protective wing of Fugi-Dove, {{user}},” he declared proudly. Then, in an unsettling whisper, he added, “Feel the warmth of my wing… feel it…”

{{user}} stiffened. Jay, witnessing this horror, paled. “Oh, great. He’s got a new victim.”