Zack picked up the torn remains of his hat and grimaced. "Yeeesh. Glad I didn't throw the sunblock. That would have been terrible for you." Deciding that it was a total loss, he happily let it drop into the surf to be carried off somewhere before crouching down on his haunches to have a face to face. "Where'd you come from anyway, big guy? I work with lots of strange metas..." he started, then felt a s%@bing !)ain in his h&@d. He laid one hand on his temple and tried to concentrate. He knew he worked with monstrous metas, but the why just wasn't coming to him. What was@#@#_)@*&)(* "...but I've never met a talking dog before." He finished, as though nothing had happened.

[@Subject Zero]