Gaster was confused by the Zoanoid’s sudden change of attitude, but then he noticed the large and very distinctive burn scar that marred the right side of the Zoanoid’s face.

"Hey wait, you’re-!"

"You have a keen grasp of the obvious, pink boy," Aptom sneered, as his hand closed off Gaster’s air supply.

All that Gaster could do was make pitiful, choked-off sounds of protest as Aptom’s grip on his neck tightened. Looking around wildly at the two other Combat Agents in the room, Gaster saw that they were slowly turning around to face him. Gaster was relieved, up until the two Zoanoids turned to face him. Gaster saw the scarring, and he knew then just how much trouble he was in. Hell, he could even feel Aptom’s cells eating away at his own throat by this time.

Aptom the first took his helmet off, staring down at Gaster with amused contempt.

"I said I had to eat and run," Aptom laughed. "I never said I wouldn’t be back for a second course. Or in your case, I guess a third."

Gaster sunk to the ground as the strength went out of his legs, struggling to breathe past the knot of Aptom’s invading cells. "Damn you," he managed to gasp out, leaning with his back against the monitoring console.

"Is that the best you could come up with?" Aptom sneered, looking more amused than ever. "Come on, the least you could do is try to put some effort into it."

But by this time Gaster could barely breathe, let alone get up enough reserve oxygen to tell Aptom that he was a miserable fucking bastard. Gaster was even starting to hear Aptom’s voice, and a few others but Aptom’s was the most prominent, echoing through what was left of his own mind. Gaster, realizing that he still had at least partial control of his right arm, struggled to move it. There wasn’t any way he could fight off Aptom with the use of only one arm, of course, but Gaster didn’t intend to try and fight anymore.

"Well, that’s at least something," Aptom smirked, watching as Gaster jerkily flipped him off.

As the last of his own mind dissolved into the hive-mind that was Aptom, Gaster could swear that there was something familiar in that stew of minds. Something that he knew…

Aptom’s smirk widened into a grin as he saw "Gaster" rise back to his feet. The eyes of the former Hyper Zoanoid were now a deep blood red, and the hair had already changed to match his own. Well, mostly, since Aptom could still see streaks of pink in his new clone’s black hair. But then after a few seconds, they were gone and Aptom’s new clone grinned back at him.

"So boss, what’s next on the menu?" he asked.

"Oh, you’ll like this," the original Aptom said, considering and then deciding against using a faux French accent to announce what he had in mind. "Next on the early dinner special: Hyper Zoanoid Bug, and Hyper Zoanoid Rhino."

"Sounds tasty," Aptom’s second clone grinned.

"Well, if we manage to catch up to them, I’m sure they will be," Aptom’s third clone chuckled. "Well boss, who gets to go out there with you? I’m feeling kinda hungry, personally."

"You ate just half an hour ago," Aptom chided. "So you’ll just have to wait."

"Yeah, but that was just a Standard Zoanoid," Aptom’s third clone wheedled. "You know what they say about Standard Zoanoids, eat one and a half hour later you’ll be hungry again."

"No, that’s Chinese food," Aptom’s second clone shot back.

"Oh can it already, the both of you," Aptom broke in. "Now, if you two can manage to be civil to each other for another ten minutes, I’ll tell you how we’re going to do this."

XxXxX

Looking out over the rubble scattered in the hallway, Zektor could just barely manage to repress a shudder. It definitely looked like the Guyvers had been set loose inside the base. But that was impossible, and it was even more impossible since Guyver III had been killed by the Commander, at least according to all of the reports Zektor had gotten. But still, Zektor didn’t know of anything else that could give a Zoalord like the Commander this much trouble.

I always thought that that Fukamachi kid was kind of a pushover. But if he managed to get this far, do this much damage, and put the Commander on the run like this, I think I’m going to have to revise my opinion of him. Zektor sighed, shaking his head. All of that was only if it had been Guyver I who had done all this damage, and that was a pretty big if.

"Still no word from Dr. Balkus," Darzerb said, sounding morose. "What about you?"

"No contact on my end, either," not quite sure yet whether he was more worried for the Doctor or the Commander, Zektor’s voice was almost toneless.

"Do you think Dr. Balkus could be-"

"No!" Zektor said sharply, not even wanting to think about that possibility. "Dr. Balkus is one of the most resourceful people in Chronos, there’s no chance that Guyver I – or whoever this is – managed to take him out. Not a chance."

"Yeah," Darzerb said, nodding. "You’re right."

Zektor nodded to himself sharply. Turning his attention back to the ruined hallway, Zektor continued walking.

"Well, we’ve checked every location where the monitors went ‘blooey’," Darzerb said, and Zektor had to chuckle at his choice of words. "We’ve even gone over them a second and a third time, too. But we still haven’t managed to find the Commander. And even Dr. Balkus is a no-show."

"I know," Zektor sighed. "I hope Dr. Balkus is all right. More than that, I hope we get to the Commander in time to-"

Something that he had seen just half a minute ago finally registered in Zektor’s conscious mind, and the leader of what was left of Team Five turned with a decisive snap. Ignoring Darzerb’s confused look, Zektor looked up at the ceiling, hoping that he hadn’t really seen what he thought he had.