[ 64 ]

THE METAMORPHOSIS

The snow is coming down even harder now, blanketing the forest.

I tap my powerstaff and pull up my Cadet Profile on the floating screen.

Wow. My data is definitely new.

And the new data can be summed up in three words:

You are mega.

Or maybe four words: Old Gork is dead.

Because as I gape at the floating screen, the data is telling me: You are New Gork. And New Gork is one seriously deranged dragon fiend, in the best possible way.

The data is telling me:

Your days of being Weak Sauce are over.

And as I gape at the floating screen, the data is telling me:

Wherever you are, that is your domain.

And:

And wherever you go, you will be the Ruler of that place.

And I can’t help but think:

Boy, what would Old Gork be doing right about now as he scrolled through this new data?

Well he’d be weeping with joy and gratitude.

And as I crouch here letting the data wash over me, I snort in disgust at the thought of Old Gork and his weepy big-hearted ways.

Because from here on out, as far as weeping over my data goes, I’ll leave that to my enemies.

Because tonight in the forest my Cadet Profile is shining in the air like a searchlight:

Dr. Terrible has done something to me.

My BIOCON LEVS are off the charts.

Some kind of metamorphosis.

I am a ruthless heartless bastard who is ranked first in my senior class.

My status is Seek&Destroy.

My nickname is Big Nasty.

My Mating Magnetism rank is ThrobbingWetOvowomb.

Basically, if you have an ovowomb, you will definitely want to mate with me.

You will want to lay my eggs.

I crouch on my haunches here in the forest.

My head feels weirdly heavy, like somebody has parked their spaceship on top of it.

So I flick my powerstaff and the datastream vanishes and now a full-length mirror appears on the floating screen.

The mirror is hovering right in front of me.

And the sight of myself takes my breath away.

What the—?

The scream is even louder now, slashing across the night wind.

But I have more important matters to attend to.

I slowly turn my scaly head this way and that, eyeing my image in the full-length mirror on the floating screen.

There in the mirror I’m standing upright on powerful green hind legs and I look like some kind of regal dragon tyrant. Downright majestic. You can see my hooded green eyes and the giant leathery wings and the thick tail with spikes running along the top of it. I’m wearing my white WarWings tunic and my red cape, and in one talon I casually hold my gold powerstaff.

And my horns. My God.

Gigantic and terrifying. They must be twelve feet long at least. My new glorious black horns curve up into these fiendish-looking spikes that wink in the moonlight. You can’t help but admire them. With one flick of my neck, I could bulldoze an entire city.

At that moment, an audio feed comes on inside my head and I know it’s Dr. Terrible before he even speaks.

Dr. Terrible’s voice is inside my head.

“Now do you understand, Gork?” says Dr. Terrible.

I gaze at myself in the mirror.

Yes. I understand.

“Tell me, Gork,” says my grandpa. “Think it so I can hear it.”

This is my Designated Foreign Planet.

Earth.

This is the planet I am destined to conquer.

“Yes,” cries Dr. Terrible inside my head. “YES!”

And for a second there I think I can hear Dr. Terrible break down and start weeping. But then the audio feed cuts out.