PART 1: THE WILD GREEN TRAINER
My head felt like Cyborg had used it for punching bag practice after losing to Robin in Mega-Robo-Fist 7. A throbbing, bass-heavy drum solo was playing exclusively between my ears. I groaned, peeling my cheek off something wet and leafy. Grass. Lots of it. And it was… purple?
Okay. Deep breaths, Garfield. Analyze the situation. Last thing I remember was a fight with some reality-warping villain, a flash of kaleidoscopic light, and Raven yelling something that sounded suspiciously like, "Logan, you imbecile, get back here!" Typical Tuesday.
I pushed myself up, my green skin thankfully still green, my uniform mostly intact save for a new, rather unflattering grass stain. I scanned my surroundings. Giant, twisting trees with bark that shimmered like oil on water. Ferns the size of small cars. Flowers that pulsed with a soft, internal light.
My first thought, a classic, came unbidden: "Okay… either Raven got really creative with her 'time-out' dimensions, or I just face-planted into the weirdest Comic-Con ever."
The silence was the first thing that truly unnerved me. It wasn't empty silence; it was a heavy, waiting kind of quiet. Then, as if a switch was flipped, the world erupted. A high-pitched trill echoed from the canopy above, answered by a series of clicks and pops from the undergrowth. A deep, guttural cry, somewhere between a bullfrog and a squeaky toy, boomed from my left. None of it sounded like Earth. Not even the weird stuff in the Amazon that I'd turned into.
Panic, that cold, familiar friend, started to prickle at the back of my neck. I needed a constant, something to ground me. My powers. If I was still me, I could still shift.
"Okay, BB, systems check," I muttered to myself, my voice sounding small in the vast, alien forest. "Let's start with something simple. A little birdie."
I focused, feeling the familiar tingle as my cells began to rearrange. The stretch of bone, the rush of feathers, the shrinking of my form—it was all there. I was a small, green sparrow, perched on a mushroom that glowed with soft blue light. But something was… off.
My wings weren't just wings. They vibrated with a low hum, a frequency that seemed to be coming from the air itself, from the glowing flora, from the very soil beneath my talons. It felt like I was a radio antenna, and this whole forest was the broadcast station. I felt a sudden, sharp instinct I'd never had as a sparrow before: a primal fear of a specific rust-colored vine coiling up a nearby tree, and an equally strong urge to peck at a glistening, diamond-shaped berry. These weren't my instincts. They were borrowed.
"Weird," I chirped, the sound foreign even to me. I dropped the form, landing back on my two feet with a soft thud. Let's try something else. Wolf.
The change was more powerful, more grounded. Four paws hit the purple turf. My senses exploded. I could smell the life cycle of a leaf a hundred yards away, from fresh bud to damp decay. But again, there was that overlay. A strange pull toward a patch of tall, swaying grass, an instinct that whispered of prey I'd never hunted. I felt the phantom passage of a pack I didn't belong to, a ghostly echo of belonging that made my fur stand on end.
One by one, I ran the gamut. A monkey, whose hands knew exactly which luminous fruits were poisonous and which were sweet. A beetle, whose shell vibrated with the deep, slow pulse of the earth. Each transformation worked, but each came with this… overlay. This attunement.
I flopped back into the grass, human again. "Okay, BB's still got the moves… but the moves feel… modded. This is definitely the DLC edition."
That's when I saw it. Crawling slowly, meticulously, onto the toe of my boot. It was a worm-like creature, green, with big, red antennae and cartoonishly large black eyes painted on its head. It had little yellow rings down its body and a series of tiny, suction-cup feet. My brain, hardwired from years of fighting alien monstrosities, screamed one thing: larva. The kind that burrows into you and lays eggs that hatch and eat their way out.
"Agh! Get it off! Get it off!" I yelped, kicking my leg frantically. The little guy just held on, its grip surprisingly firm.
My panic-brain kicked into high gear. Scare it! What scares bugs? Frogs! Big, ugly, bug-eyed frogs!
In a flash of green light, I was a bullfrog the size of a bulldog, my throat pouch puffed out, my eyes wide and menacing. I let out the deepest, most threatening ribbit I could muster. "CROOOAK!" I boomed, expecting the little worm to flee in terror.
It didn't.
It just… tilted its head. Its real eyes, tiny black beads near its mouth, blinked. It wiggled its red antennae, took one more step up my boot, and then did the last thing I expected. It leaned forward and gently nuzzled the slimy green skin of my frog-foot. A soft, happy little chirp, like a squeaky toy, emanated from it. It thought I was a friend. Maybe a big cousin.
The fear evaporated, replaced by a wave of baffled warmth. This thing wasn't a monster. It was… cute. In a weird, alien-caterpillar kind of way. I let the frog form melt away, returning to my normal self. The little creature was now crawling curiously up my leg.
"Whoa there, little dude," I said, gently extending a hand. It crawled onto my palm without hesitation, its tiny feet tickling my skin. It looked up at me, its fake eyes giving it a perpetually surprised expression.
I crouched down, bringing it closer. "You're… not like any bug back home. And somehow…" I hesitated, the thought forming as I said it, "…somehow, I feel like I know you."
The moment my finger brushed against its smooth green hide, it happened. A flash. Not a memory, but a torrent of pure instinct.
Hunger. A deep, gnawing craving for the crisp, heart-shaped leaves of a sun-dappled bush just a few feet away. Safety. The feel of a sturdy branch underfoot, the rough texture of bark a comforting anchor. Warmth. The blissful sensation of sunlight on my back, a gentle, life-giving heat. Fear. A sudden, sharp terror of a screeching shadow passing overhead, the instinct to freeze and blend in, to become just another leaf.
The vision, the feeling, was gone as quickly as it came, leaving me breathless. I stared at the little green worm in my hand. It wasn't just that my powers were 'modded.' They were resonating. When I turned into a wolf here, I wasn't just a green wolf; I was tapping into the very essence of whatever wolf-like creatures lived here. And by touching this little guy, I was feeling a tiny piece of its world.
He let out another happy chirp and began to climb my arm, making a determined trek for my shoulder.
Just as a real smile, my first genuine smile since waking up, touched my lips, the forest changed again.
A low vibration started in the soles of my feet, humming up my legs. The giant, shimmering trees began to shake, their luminous flowers flickering nervously. From far off, a sound began to grow. A low, angry buzzing. It wasn't the gentle hum of a bee; it was the thrum of a thousand tiny engines, a sound that promised violence.
The little creature on my arm, this Caterpie, went rigid. Its happy chirps died in its throat. Its red antennae shot straight up, twitching, sensing the air. A wave of its fear, sharp and acrid, washed over me. My own newfound instincts screamed in unison with its terror. Danger. Predator. Swarm. Hide.
I slowly straightened up, my eyes scanning the dense canopy. The buzzing grew louder, closer. The light filtering through the leaves seemed to dim, as if a cloud was passing over a sun I couldn't see. This wasn't a hero's welcome. It wasn't a weird Comic-Con. It was a world with its own rules, its own food chain, and I had just landed squarely in the middle of it.
Looking up at the alien sky, a profound sense of isolation washed over me. I was alone, millions of miles from my team, from my home. But then, a tiny, soft nuzzle against my cheek brought me back. The Caterpie was pressing itself against me, seeking comfort, offering it.
A strange calm settled over the panic.
"Okay…" I whispered, my voice steady despite the growing roar in the distance. I reached up and gave the little guy a gentle pat. "I don't know where I am. I don't know what that sound is. But if little buddy here is the welcome wagon… maybe this won't be so bad."
He chirped, a little less frightened this time, and snuggled in. The warmth of a new, unexpected friend on my shoulder, and the ever-loudening, menacing buzz of an unknown threat filling the air. Yeah. This was going to be an interesting trip.