When the door opened to his father private quarters, the clicking of paws on the polished floor broke the silence. The three puppies scrambled toward him, their bodies thudding against his legs.
Erasmus closed the door behind his back, shutting out the rest of Vought Tower. He dropped to his knees, letting the animals crowd around him as they barked and rolled all over his lap.
He didn't smile, and his heart didn't melt. He didn't feel the warm rush of affection humans described as love. To his alien mind, that concept was alien, perhaps non-existent.
But as the dogs nudged his hands and licked his face, he felt a deep sense of familiarity. They were simple, predictable, and didn't require him to put on a performance.
He reached out to tap the first pup, a chaotic little ball of energy that was busy chewing on the lace of his boot. "Stop that, Cerberus," Erasmus commanded, picking him up and tossing him onto a plush cushion, only for the dog to instantly roll onto its back, tail wagging at maximum speed.
The second puppy, Erebus, wasn't any smarter. It was currently tackling a stray sofa pillow, growling softly as it shook the fabric back and forth with zero coordination. Erasmus reached over and gave its belly a rough rub, causing the dog to flop over instantly, completely distracted.
Then his gaze shifted to the third one, who was aggressively trying to bite its own tail in a tight circle. This one was undeniably the most handsome of the litter, possessing a broader chest, thicker legs, and the biggest paws. It was the strongest and the oldest.
Erasmus reached out, his fingers sinking into the thick fur of its neck. "And Erasmus," he called to his namesake.
The large puppy rushed over to collapse directly into Erasmus's chest, panting happily with its tongue hanging out. Erasmus let the heavy animal rest against him, his hands mindlessly stroking its thick fur.
They were just mindless, playful beasts, completely oblivious to the cosmic horrors or corporate schemes happening right outside the door. Pushing the stinky beast away, he walked over toward the bed.
Erasmus reached the side of the bed and pressed a button on the remote his father had taught him to use whenever he needed someone or something. Pressing number one on the pad connected him straight to Ashley.
"Hello, Ashley," Erasmus said into the receiver. "Can you bring me a rare steak and steak pizza and one large Pepsi with ice? Also, bring some steak for my puppies. And can you get me a phone? I just remembered I don't have one."
"Yes Erasmus....Anything else?" she asked, pausing slightly on his name.
"That will be all for now. Thank you, Ashley."
"You're welcome. I will bring them up myself as fast as possible."
Cerberus looked around at his new reality as he walked barefoot through the concrete streets of New York. His striking appearance and sharp strange mannerisms immediately grabbed the attention of the passing crowd.
He possessed all the knowledge of his main body, but the physical experience of walking, breathing, and acting entirely independently was completely surreal.
"Excuse me, young man?" the human stopped him in his tracks just as he was deep in thought enjoying his new senses.
The man was dressed in a black suit, holding a leather briefcase, and scanning Cerberus from head to toe with his eyes. His gaze lingered heavily on Cerberus's bare, dusty feet pressing against the cold New York pavement.
"I couldn't help but notice you walking out here like this," the man said, pulling a black-and-white business card from his pocket and holding it out. "Look, I don't know what your situation is, but you have an incredible look. The bone structure, the hair, the fucking sculpted face, and that look in your eyes that just says 'stay away, I'm a killer', it's exactly what my agency is hunting for. If you're looking for a fresh start, I can offer you a high-paying job as a male model. We provide housing, a solid stipend, the whole nine yards. What do you say?"
Cerberus didn't say a word. He simply reached out both hands, took the business card, and creased it gently between his fingers while completely ignoring the man's presence.
"Oh, boy," the scout said, interpreting the silence. "You don't speak English, do you? Look, if you don't have documentation, that's going to affect your starting salary since we'll have to take care of all that paperwork as well."
The man pulled out his phone, tapping the screen. "No hable inglés? Let's see... you look Russian, maybe Polish. Here, speak into this so it can translate." He held the microphone directly up to Cerberus's face.
Cerberus leaned in slightly. "I already have a job."
"Oh, you speak English!" the scout smiled, his eyes lighting up. "Even better! Tell me, what's your job and how much are they paying you? I'm telling you, kid, you're missing out if you walk away now. Think about all the celebrities and the supes you can meet. All the models you can fuck. I'm telling you, with the war in Ukraine, we got a shit-ton of hot models both male and female that we are paying pennies on the dollar. You can choose whichever one takes your fancy. What do you think?"
"Sure," Cerberus shrugged, his face a mask of absolute smiling indifference. "Why not ?"
"HAHAHA! I like that! Why the fuck not, right?!"
"Why the fuck not,"
"I'm Jimmy Floreal, by the way," the scout said, extending a hand to shake. "What's your name, kiddo?"
"Cerberus."