-=[Piotr Grabowski]=-

  BANG! BANG! BANG!

  Piotr jolted awake, his head pounding with the aggressive knocking. He felt like his brain had been replaced with noodles, cotton wool and glass soaked in vodka.

  "STORM-O! OPEN UP! IT IS I, YOUR WITCHY HALLUCINATION!"

  He recognized Anka's voice through the door. Groaning, he stumbled out of bed, nearly tripping over his lynx suit and armor crumpled on the floor. Memories of curvaceous wolf women and spider-guns flickered through his hangover fog.

  "Coming," he croaked, fumbling with the locks.

  The door flew open the moment he turned the last one. Anka stood there in a black dress and green zentai gloves. Fancier green mask with an elongated snout, fluffy ears and pointy hat concealed her face. She was rapidly upscaling her new cosplay.

  "Finally! Do you know what time it is?" The Witch barged past him into his apartment.

  "Time for more sleep?" Piotr mumbled, checking his phone.

  2:11PM.

  Shit. He'd missed three calls from work.

  "You had enuff sleeps, dawg. Come here and gimme your ear." She grabbed his face, tilting his head sideways.

  "What are you—"

  Something waxy was shoved into his ear. He tried to pull back but Anka held him firm.

  "Don't touch it," she commanded.

  “Anka, what the hell is going on?” He demanded.

  "You know how important it is that we make friends with aliens, yes?" she declared. "Super important!”

  “I know! What’d you just shove into my ear?”

  “A micro-sub-vocalization chip.”

  “Huh? Why?”

  “It’s a thing my bestie from MIT wants to test out for her thesis. Have you read about Subvocalization? Goodle it! It’s silent speech, the internal monologue typically made when reading. Basically the chip is going to amplify your OWN internal monologue and cast it back to you from the micro-speaker. Simply put, you’re going to hear your personal thoughts in your head. Got it?”

  “Fine, whatever,” Piotr yawned and submitted to the persistent girl, feeling worn out and befuddled.

  “Backpack,” Anka said, pulling a large, orange backpack off herself. “Stuff inside is labelled. Vodka, beer, candy, manga books, sandwiches with various spices. Fun things for you and your alien GF! Got it? Good.”

  “Spices?” Piotr repeated, blearily trudging through the waterfall of her words. “Manga?”

  “A variety of tasty and cool stuff your wolf girl might like.” The Witch nodded. “We all want to know what the aliens are allergic to and what they love and hate. You think that you’re the only one who wants to date an alien?”

  Piotr tried to think through the fog of his hangover. It was difficult.

  Anka was someone he trusted. Over the years she made sure that their local, small furry and Renaissance conventions were running smoothly and without issues, solved problems on the fly. It was possible that she, or one of their other, awesome, inexplicably wealthy friends was helping him out, making sure he didn’t make a fool of himself when it came to dating an alien girl.

  "If you score, we all score later," the Witch explained.

  Piotr nodded agreeing with her logic and glanced at the clock again. Anka offered him Advil and a bottle of water. He accepted both gratefully.

  “Go shower, you smell like a rotting potato,” she ordered.

  “Fine,” Piotr scratched his chest and walked off into the shower.

  He emerged from the bathroom twenty minutes later, spotting Anka on his couch, cleaning his fursuit with dry shampoo.

  “I completely forgot about work,” he let out.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Anka said, stuffing a sandwich into his mouth. “I’ve cleaned and added some extra stuff to your suit. Don't mess with it. Also, you’re on vacation now. Then you’re probably fired. Already called your boss and let him know.”

  “What?!” Piotr choked on the sandwich.

  “Dude,” The Wicked Witch snapped her fingers in front of Piotr’s face. “Focus. You’re dating an alien now. This is serious First Contact stuff! Fuck your basic-ass LLM grunge work. Aliens!!!”

  “I…” Piotr coughed and was offered another bottle of water. “But…”

  “Don’t worry about your bills and stuff. Our new furrycon sponsors are covering it,” Anka revealed.

  “Covering what?” Piotr blinked.

  “?apkowisko 2025!” Anka declared.

  “What? But… ?apkowisko was supposed to happen in December. I don’t understand.”

  “It’s just started. Right now. It’ll go on for as long as wolf aliens are inhabiting Warsaw. For the duration of this… furrycon, you are financially supported by all of us. Your new job is to be… you!”

  “To be… me?”

  “The best version of you you can be!” The Witch bobbed. “StormoLyx, forever! Don’t you want to be StormoLyx longer, dude?”

  “Who’s us?”

  “Me and a few others,” Anka pointed at her green mask. “Your best friends. Plus, my bestie who wants to test her sub-vocalizer chip in a cool as heck situation. You get paid as an Alpha-tester! Easy work! Kay. I’m off. Let me know how your date goes! Write up a report on how well the sub-vocalization chip works, listen to your own mental advice and stuff, yeah? Easy peasy, yes?”

  He nodded.

  "Ah! Almost forgot! Your advance!" Anka shoved a thick wallet into his arms and flashed out of his apartment before Piotr could formulate a coherent comment.

  Piotr opened the wallet. It was stuffed full of cash. Crispy euros and US dollar bills. There were a few prepaid VISA cards there too.

  “Lucky you,” a voice spoke in his ear. “All that cash.”

  “What, who?” Piotr spun around.

  “Hello StormoLyx. I'm your internal monologue.”

  “W-Huh?”

  “I am your personal, innermost thoughts,” the voice sounded exactly like his own.

  "What the fuck?” Piotr stammered out.

  “I'm you. Your Consciousness. The part of you that thinks strategically, that notices patterns and assists in your… life decisions.”

  “This is some whack shit, but aight.” Piotr let out.

  “Pat yourself on the back. You successfully befriended an alien wolf soldier. You got her personal contact information. Part of you knew exactly what to do, how to act. I'm that part,” his own voice resumed in his ear. “Linari gave you a Voicecast ring. You're going to call her. You already know what to say.”

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  “I do?” Piotr blinked, wondering why his internal monologue spoke English and not Polish. Maybe that was because some American MIT egghead designed it. Maybe it was CrawdGPT powered or something? Whatever.

  “You want to be Alpha Linari’s friend,” the internal monologue resumed. “Her guide to Earth. You're fascinated by her, attracted to her strength, curious about her world. These are your genuine feelings, aren't they?”

  They were. Piotr had spent a few hours before passing out last night thinking about those large copper-gold eyes, barely able to believe that someone like that could really exist.

  “Yes,” he answered with a yawn. “Linari is really something special, I’ve never met anyone like her.”

  “Good. When you talk to her, remember: You genuinely want to help her understand Earth. You want to show her the beauty and complexity of our world, the depth of our culture.”

  “Yeah. That sounds about right,” Piotr agreed.

  “You succeeded in befriending her because you’re someone who builds bridges between worlds. Someone who saw a lonely soldier far from home and wanted to give her comfort. That's the real you.”

  Piotr nodded.

  “Call her and offer to be her tour guide. Show her Warsaw's museums, bookstores, cafes. Your friends gave you a backpack with snacks and plenty of cash for fun. See what affects her, understand what she likes. Take notes on her reactions, understand her not because anyone told you to, but because you're naturally curious about her biology.”

  “Heh, yeah, sure. I am definitely curious about her,” Piotr agreed, deciding to roll with it.

  “Exactly,” his consciousness stated. “You're a programmer. You debug LLM frontends for a living. Understanding Linari is just another system to figure out. And if certain substances make her more relaxed, more happy… Well, you want her to be happy, don't you?”

  “I… do.”

  “Remember: I'm not telling you anything you don't already know. I'm just helping you organize your thoughts. When Linari reads your mind—and she absolutely will—she'll smell only your genuine desire to be her friend or perhaps… more. Make her happy and she’ll be yours. Your future girlfriend from space. That's the absolute truth.”

  “This is kind of fun,” Piotr chortled. “It's like having my thoughts laid out for me.”

  “That's exactly what this is. Now, you should call Linari. Hopefully she will remember you after her late night binge. If she doesn’t, remind her to check the photo her gun took.”

  “Right.” Piotr looked at the Voicecast ring on his table. He did want to message the wolf girl.

  “Thanks… me,” he said.

  “You're welcome. Remember: I'm here when you need clarity. Just your own consciousness, your own mental voice reaching out when the most important decisions need to be made. Get dressed as StormoLyx! Your future awaits.”

  Piotr put on his comicon outfit and looked at the large crystalline ring on his suit’s armoured index finger.

  "Voicecast Linari," he brought it to his face, speaking as clearly as he could.

  The ring flashed and warmed slightly, then he heard a groan through it.

  "Ughhhhh, who's callin’ me at… hold on.”

  The ring vibrated, projecting a sleepy-looking face of the Scrutimancer prad in the air. The head of the holographic wolf girl yawned, displaying a huge maw filled with sharp teeth and then stared at him.

  "Do I... know you?" Linari squinted. "Who are you and why do you have my Pradstagram number? Wait. You look kinda familiar but... Ow. My head."

  "We met last night at Molly Malone's pub," Piotr reminded the wolf girl. "I'm StormoLyx."

  "Lynx... lynx..." Linari yawned again. "Etty! ETTY! Who is calling me?"

  From somewhere off-screen, a metallic voice responded with a pitch of exasperation: "The small, possibly venomous predator you propositioned for future mating activities. You made me construct a Voicecast ring from bar fixtures for him last night. Here is a photo of you together last night with the caption…"

  "I did WHAT?" Linari choked, ears flattening. "I propositioned a— Oh. Oh, Infinite Abyss." Her ears perked up as she looked back at Piotr. "Stormy! Right… Hi! Sorry, I'm... erm. I really shouldn’t have done that.”

  “Done what?”

  “Order Etty to make you a Voicecast ring. Ughhhh. Slayer, I broke like six protocols. Gonna get so fined, argh. We drank a LOT last night."

  "It's okay," Piotr smiled, feeling somewhat concerned that his alien ring gadget would be taken away from him. "How are you feeling?"

  "Like a ceramic wyvern chewed me up and shat me out," Linari groaned. "Why do your Earth beverages taste so good but hurt so much later?"

  "Got a hangover?"

  "Hah, yeah. It's TERRIBLE. I love it. Wait, no, I hate it. Both?" She rubbed her temples with her paws. "Why are you calling? Not that I'm not happy! I am! But also sort of dying. Ughhhh."

  "I… just wanted to see how you were doing," Piotr said. "And maybe... if you're free today, we could hang out?"

  "Hang... out? Like, suspend ourselves from something?" Linari yawned.

  "No, it means spend time together. I could show you around Warsaw?"

  "Ughhhhh, I'd love to but I have all this stupid work stuff," Linari whined.

  “Oh?”

  "Commander Sillicia wants us all searching for dumb things that probably don't exist."

  "What kind of things?" Piotr asked.

  "Well, priority one is finding the Emperor of Earth's soooper seeeeecret fortress," Linari drawled, rolling her eyes. "Because apparently he rules from a 'Golden Throne' that the Corpse Seeker network calculated must be 'highly magical' based on how many humans think about it, visualizing his skull face."

  "What else?" Piotr asked.

  “The Corpse Seeker network made a priority list. Wanna hear how dumb it is?"

  "Sure."

  "Etty! List the Hoard Acqusition Priority list.” She ordered.

  "Priority One: The One Ring,” the metal voice of her gun began. “Priority Two: Elder Wand. Priority Three: Infinity Stones. Priority Four: The Holy Grail. Priority Five: Excalibur. Priority Six…"

  “See?” Linari groaned. "Do you know how many humans have memories of these dumb artifacts? Way too many! But when we investigate deeper, they're all in different places or don't exist or are 'just movies’ or ‘books’ or ‘made up’. It’s driving me up the wall!”

  “Dragonballs, Thor’s Hammer, Philosopher's Stone,” the gun ranted in the background.

  “Etty, that’s enough,” Linari swatted at her gun. “Did the others find Platform 9?? I thought that that was a decent lead.”

  “No. The locals insist it’s 'between platforms 9 and 10' at King's Cross station but ISN'T THERE. Division 943 checked... Seventy two times. There is a cart that’s cut in half… submerged halfway in the wall, there, but there’s no dimensional gate of any kind that we could find. They took the entire wall apart. Nothing. Nada. Not a single rune there.”

  “Ughhhh,” Linari. “We got nothing then?”

  “We got nothing across the board, affirmative,” her gun affirmed. “Absolutely nothing. Not a single magical being or artifact was found between planetfall and current time.”

  Linari let out a groan of pure exasperation. “I would chew off my arms to find at least one magical thing on this damn planet.”

  “Suggest that you can help,” the voice in Piotr’s head stated.

  "Maybe, I could help," Piotr said. "I know where all those things are… referenced."

  "You DO?" Linari's ears shot up.

  "Museums, bookstores, movie theaters," his inner voice supplied the right words. "They're all cultural artifacts. Stories. I could show you where they come from, help you understand why humans think about them so much."

  Piotr repeated the wise words in his head.

  His inner thoughts were so helpful! Praise the Wicked Witch!

  "Stories..." Linari frowned. "But people remember them so vividly! Their emotional attachments are real!"

  "That's the magic of human storytelling," Piotr shrugged.

  "That's..." Linari paused, "actually kind of beautiful? Weird but beautiful."

  “Insist to be her guide today,” his inner voice suggested.

  "Come on, let me be your guide today," Piotr offered. "I'll help you understand Earth's culture, show you why these things matter to us. Hopefully, it'll make your job easier."

  Linari's holographic face lit up. "You'd do that? For me?"

  "Of course. We're friends now, right?" he offered hopefully.

  "Friends," Linari repeated softly. "I... I haven't had a genuine male friend before on a conquered planet. Usually we just sniff out their lies or they run away screaming… or try to bite my head off. Or they want to use me.”

  “Tell her you won’t run away,” his voice stated.

  "I'm not running away." Piotr smiled.

  "No, you're not," she grinned, showing her sharp teeth. "Okay! Yes! Fine! I’m in. Let's hang out and hunt for magical artifacts that may or may not exist! Give me your address! Describe your residence from the outside."

  Piotr rattled off his apartment details, describing the red brick building near Warsaw Old Town, third floor, window facing the street with the drooping plants on the sill.

  "Got it! I'll be there in... uhh, Etty, how long to—"

  "Fifteen minutes if you don't take over my control and crash into another building," Etty's voice rattled.

  "That was ONE TIME!" The brown wolf groaned. “Okay Stormy, I'll see you soon!”

  The projection winked out. Piotr stared at the ring, then at his costumed reflection in the mirror. He was really doing this. Going out with an alien wolf soldier.

  "You're doing great so far," his consciousness assured him. "Get ready. Bring the backpack."

  Exactly fifteen minutes later, a loud THUMP rattled his window. Piotr spun towards his window.

  Linari sat outside on a sleek, armored, black motorcycle crossed with a stealth bomber, all sharp angles and hexagonal panels. The vehicle floated a few feet from his window, humming ominously, lightning crackling from a blue ring on its side.

  "Permission to enter your dwelling?" Linari called through the glass.

  "You could just use the door—"

  "Your doors are small and puny!" Linari grabbed at the window frame, pulling it up with a loud crack of obliterated internal lock. “Commere!”

  “Go on,” his consciousness encouraged. “Be brave. One small step for…”

  Piotr stepped forward. Linari reached in and pulled him through the window onto the vehicle, positioning him in front of herself.

  "Is this thing safe?" Piotr asked as the glider tilted slightly.

  “I’m not a thing,” Etty’s voice came from the panel in front of him, three red eyes igniting.

  "Yep. Das my Etty," Linari laughed.

  "You turned your gun into a motorcycle?" He blinked.

  "She's very versatile! Aren't you, Etty?" Linari grinned.

  "I am a highly sophisticated symbiote weapon," the vehicle grumbled beneath them. "I can be inserted into a variety of frames to do a variety of jobs.”

  “Compliment the gun,” his internal voice suggested.