The Lookout was filled with colorful stage lights as the music echoed out, barely contained by the glass windows. A sharp beat could be heard from outside clearing, then met with a chorus of rhythm and melodies. It was the perfect afternoon for Pup Pup Boogie, and they celebrated the momentous occasion by cranking the volume up severely higher than usual.

Chase finally returned sometime later, tiredly trudging up the sidewalk as his tail dragged on the ground. Once the muffled rave music hit his ears, an audible groan escaped his lips as he looked up at the tower. Sure enough, brightly colored lights were blaring out, turning the Lookout into somewhat of a massive disco ball.

"Seriously, now?" Chase groaned to himself, all the world was in chaos and his friends were having dance parties.

Upstairs, the entire room was bursting with deafening disco music. Rubble was dancing on his own a little ways off, not participating in the actual video game. He wasn't relatively a great dancer, but that never bothered him. Everyone was always happy to see the bulldog be himself. Zuma and Marshall were the players, dancing away on the platforms as if their lives depended on it. They were moving in all directions, moving their bodies as if the very rhythm flowed through them. The scores were close, maintaining near equal numbers as the song went on and on. But there could only be one winner, and both dogs were fighting tooth and nail for the trophy. Rocky was sitting, mesmerized by how any dog could possibly move in such ways. Skye was sitting next to the mix, cheering on the duo as they moved. She could only watch, as her cough had slightly worsened, and would surely break her down from an explosive movement.

The middle elevator opened, and Chase grimaced as the music hit him full force. No one had seen or heard him enter the main floor, the sheer volume of the game was overbearing. Flattening his ears in annoyance, he walked up next to Rocky. The mix was gleefully bouncing to the beat and turned to smile at his Shepherd friend, expecting him to return the happy look.

Chase merely raised an eyebrow, unhappy his mission to city hall was aborted.

"Are you gonna play?" Rocky asked excitedly, having to bark over the music,

"No! Where's Ryder?" the Shepherd retorted,

"What?" the mix cocked his head,

"I said where's Ryder?!" Chase shouted over the deafening disco,

"Outside, working on his AV!" Rocky pointing back to the windows,

The Shepherd loudly groaned, sharply turning back to the elevator. Rocky frowned at his friend's actions, wanting to call him back and invite him to a dance-off. Chase re-entered the elevator and hit the button. The doors swiftly shut, slightly muffling the music, then increasingly quieted it as he moved downward. Chase decided he'd rather not go deaf today and took a second to lick his paw. Arriving outside, Chase left the elevator and walked around to the garage. The smell of motor oil hit his nose as he walked onto the pavement, coming up to Ryder.

"I thought you were joining the party upstairs," he commented, wedging a screwdriver under his vehicle,

"I'm not feeling it tonight," Chase sat down, "I don't get how they can cut loose like that when the ACG is tearing the city into pieces,"

"Well, sometimes you gotta take a breather," Ryder shrugged, wiping his forehead, "it's unhealthy to not take breaks every once in a while,"

"But those dogs are-"

"Yes, I'm aware of what they're doing," the boy raised an eyebrow at the dog, "why are you still on this? All we have to do is stay out of their way, and they'll eventually leave."

"As a police dog, I feel responsible for keeping my city safe, and-"

"It's not your city, Chase,"

The Shepherd hung his head, huffing in quiet agitation, "I know, it's just… I don't know why we're not doing anything about them."

"We are, but it's not you doing it," Ryder pushed himself out from under the AV, getting up. Chase tilted his head in confusion.

"Tonight, I'm leaving for the mountains," he explained, cleaning off his tools,

"Leaving?" Chase jolted, "now? Why?"

"Just for a few days, I'm gonna try and get the ACG out the old-fashioned way," Ryder explained, "I and Everest will go over some legal papers and see if we can bend a rule or something to get them out,"

"Why can't Everest come here?"

"Don't ask questions, Chase, just do as you're told," Ryder told him sternly, "while I'm gone, you're in charge. Call me if Skye's sickness gets worse."

Chase was severely taken off guard, nearly barreled over by the sudden reveal that Ryder was going to completely leave in the night. He opened his mouth to say something but decided to shut it for fear of angering his owner. He'd follow the orders, all good dogs did, yet something was pulling at the back of his mind. There was something that Ryder wasn't telling him, and he knew it. He knew better than to challenge the boy, however, and the Shepherd merely nodded in acceptance. Ryder would be leaving, and Chase was in charge.

Nightfall shrouded over The Lookout.

The agonizing music was still emitting from The Lookout. Chase poked his head out of his kennel in irritation, pleading for a power outage to fry the game. The only time the party stopped was when Ryder went up there to announce his departure. While it was mostly met with surprised exclaims, most of the pups were understanding. Chase didn't share their initial thoughts, as he couldn't help narrowing his eyes as he watched Ryder speed away on his AV into the night. A lingering feeling was bleeding into what felt like abandonment, surely Ryder couldn't just leave in the middle of all this?

It didn't matter right now. The police dog had other things to attend to, and without his owner getting in the way, he could complete his own mission. Surely all of the others were distracted with their games, so none of them should get in his way either. Taking a deep breath, Chase stepped out of his kennel into the night. His mind fired off a quick way to speed to city hall, preferably one that minimized attention on himself. He considered taking his rig, as that would be the faster option, but it would certainly draw some prying eyes. Chase frowned, wondering if taking one of the other pup's rigs was a better option, then realized he didn't know how to drive them. He was forced to settle on his own vehicle but had to drive with lights and sirens off, it was the only option. Throwing on a dark jacket in an attempt to conceal his identity, Chase hopped in his rig and started the engine.

The drive into the city was anxiety-filled, paranoia creeping up the Shepherd's back as he neared city hall. Did he really know what he was doing? Was this a smart idea, to go behind Ryder's back? Could he still turn around and go back on it all? If he had the option to leave, why wasn't he taking it? He finally parked his rig on the side of the road, turning off the engine and hopping out. He had arrived at the tall, government building that was city hall. It was almost intimidating, being a small puppy on the sidewalk approaching such a structure.

"Here goes nothing," Chase gulped,

The overhead road lights illuminated the courtyard before him. A small tent, dark blue in color, sat idly before the main doors. Underneath it was a white foldable table with some papers on it. A rather tired-looking Husky sat with his chin resting on the table, seemingly nodding off.

Chase approached the table, despite it towering over his small height. He gently cleared his throat, and the Husky's eyes snapped open.

"Huh?" he picked his head up, looking out in confusion,

"Down here,"

The dog leaned forward over the table, finally spotting the small police dog sitting before him. The Husky instantly gave a sour expression, "what do you want?"

"Is this where I apply for CAP?" Chase looked up at him,

The older dog held a surprised expression for a solid second, then stuttered for a moment before looking down at the papers, "are you serious?"

"Yes," the puppy said flatly,

"Well, I'll tell you now, we don't accept puppies," growled the Husky, "shouldn't you be in bed?"

"I'm not just a puppy," Chase narrowed his eyes, standing up on his back legs and placing his forearms on the table, "I'm from the Paw Patrol division, we practically run the city,"

"Oh, it's you six," the older dog rolled his eyes, "honestly it's Goddamned hilarious that this city has to rely on a team of puppies,"

"Maybe so, but I'm still law enforcement," the police dog argued, "and I want in!"

"I told you, we don't accept puppies,"

"But I'm not just a puppy! I have the right to know what's going on!"

"Uhh-" the Husky glanced to the side, "kid, I don't really know what to do here," he shrugged, "Paw Patrol or not, we don't take puppies,"

"I'm not taking no for an answer," the Shepherd flattened his ears,

"Those words will get you tased,"

"Look is there a supervisor I can talk to?" Chase submitted, slightly flexing his dull claws on the table.

The Husky raised an eyebrow, then rolled his eyes, "you're gonna play that card, huh? Fine." he reached a paw to his chest and revealed a collar that was partially hidden from his fur. Chase recognized it immediately as a tag with a radio in it, just like his own pup tag.

"Captain, sir, we have a situation out here," he spoke into it,

Chase returned to all fours, satisfied he was making progress, slightly wagging his tail. After enduring a few more seconds of the dog's hostility, Chase turned his head the city hall's doors swung open and out walked a dog that made him stop in his tracks. Up until now, he was feeling confident in his ability to see this until the end, but now all he wanted to do was run home. His confidence completely died as the second dog walked out, brimming with authority, and Chase recognized the Belgian Malinois instantly, as the exact dog who intercepted their last mission.

Cyrus walked out with a stern face, intending some nagging Sheepdog ready to throw obscenities in the air. He was instead met with a small puppy, and his eyes widened in surprise.

"You?" the Malinios muttered, semi-taking a step back,

"Um, yeah," Chase breathed, "me again,"

"I thought I told you to stop getting involved," Cyrus growled, baring his sharpened fangs,

"I'm not!" Chase fired back defensively, then hesitated, "well… yes, I am, but I'm not intruding like last time!"

"What?" Cyrus shook his head, not believing the small puppy would even dare to overstep this far, "you're intruding now just as much as you were the other day!"

"Well, I need to be in the loop somehow," the police dog took a step forward, "so… I'm here, applying for CAP,"

"Ugh," Cyrus deflated slightly, "come inside, not out here,"

Feeling uncertain of himself but still holding on to his flickers of determination, Chase nodded as Cyrus turned around and headed inside the building. Following behind him, the puppy felt a chill creep up his spine, just how deep into the rabbit hole had he fallen? The Malinois pushed open the glass doors and quickly walked through the lobby and down a hobby. They passed the front desk with the simple potted plants that dotted its edges, passing under the ceiling banner that bore the emblem of Adventure Bay. As Chase walked behind the larger dog, his mind went wild with the new territory he was straying in. He had a thousand questions and became increasingly annoyed the longer they went unanswered.

Cyrus opened a door off to the side, leading to a small room with nothing but a table and two chairs. It resembled a place where you'd interview new employees, or interrogate a captive. On the table was a closed folder.

"Sit," Cyrus ordered, walking in,

Chase instinctively lowered his rear to the floor and sat with a straight and firm posture, tilting his head slightly upward.

"... in the chair," the Malinois said exasperated,

"Oh, right," Chase tried to laugh off, "sorry, I'm used to doing that stuff for like, treats, you know?" he chuckled nervously as he climbed into the firm plastic chair, Cyrus raised an eyebrow.

"Are you absolutely sure you want a part in this?" he questioned, sitting across from the puppy, "because once you get in the loop, you can't come out,"

"Of course," the Shepherd nodded eagerly, "when I became a police dog, they told me it was the next step in life-"

"No no," Cyrus cut him off, "this is nothing like that. You'll be under a confidential agreement, no one can know of your involvement or you'll face repercussions."

Chase frowned, drooping his ears, "why not?"

"Because," Cyrus leaned in slightly, trying to drive home a point, "the things that the ACG does and deals with are nothing like you've ever seen. It's more… serious, we see things that will not hesitate to kill you or others,"

Chase's expression changed, his frown slowly turning to mild shock.

"And the reason we're here in Adventure Bay," he hesitated for a moment, "trust me, you'll be better off not knowing," he placed his paws on the table, leaning in slightly, "Chase, I beg of you, just go home. This is not something a puppy should be roped into,"

The Shepherd thought for a long moment, then proudly puffed out his chest, "Chase is on the case," he said with a smile,

"But are you?" Cyrus questioned, "you say you're a police dog?"

"Top of my class,"

"What class?"

"Well, mostly Ryder's programs," Chase confessed, glancing to the side,

"So you're not a cop," Cyrus narrowed his eyes,

"I am," the puppy shot forward, "I just…" he struggled to find the words, "I've just never really seen action in Adventure Bay like the things you see on TV."

The two dogs sat in silence for a brief moment, before Cyrus spoke again, "do you have a gun?"

Chase shuffled his paws uncomfortably, "yes, I do."

"I never see it on you, is it in your pup pack?"

"No, it's actually in a storage crate back at home," the puppy explained, "I have… large bunker where I keep most of my gear, mainly the ones I've never needed before."

"Like?" Cyrus pushed,

"Mostly riot gear," Chase shrugged, "I think I even have tear gas, but I've never needed any of it so… it just all stays in there,"

"Yeah, I notice this city doesn't see much action to begin with," nodded the Malinois, "it's usually just cats in trees and lost mail. I imagine our presence has been quite abrupt,"

"It has," Chase frowned, "if I can be honest, I really don't like what you're doing to the city,"

"Oh?" the older dog tilted his head

"I don't. And… maybe if you told me why you're here and your reasons for such, maybe I'd understand and even want to help. Is a criminal on the loose or something?"

"No, Chase, it's so much more than that," Cyrus pressed,

"Then just tell me!"

"Are you sure?" he growled in response, "are you one-hundred percent sure you want to sign the papers, see shit that will scar you for life, and never be able to tell anyone? Is that where you want to take your life?"

"Yes!" Chase nearly barked, "I want to help my city!"

Cyrus leaned back and gave a long sigh, trying to make sense of the puppy before him. In a way, he almost admired Chase's determination, but he feared what would be exposed to the poor dog. And yet, his mind seemed to be made up, there was truly no turning back.

"Fine," he submitted, reaching behind him and pulling out a piece of paper, "sign here," a pen was haphazardly tossed before Chase, as the paper was slid in front of him, "and before you sign, I'm giving you one last chance to go home."

Chase stared at the paper for a long time, before picking up the pen in his mouth and signing his name. Although holding a pen in one's mouth made writing difficult, as Chase produced on the line what resembled chicken scratch. It didn't matter, a signature was a signature.

"Alright," Chase spat out the pen, "do I get a shirt or something?"

"No," Cyrus said firmly, "I guess I have a lot to tell you, we'll start at the beginning,"

Chase nodded, sitting comfortably,

"For the record," Cyrus began, "you are completely prohibited from telling anyone outside of the ACG of your new position. This is for your protection," he finished, watching Chase nod, "the duties of CAP members are to assist the ACG and report their findings, but since you're of the Paw Patrol division, I have a more… special assignment for you."

Chase nodded, listening intently,

"You want me to come out and say it?" Cyrus braced himself, "Chase, there's something loose in Adventure Bay, and before you ask, it's not a criminal. It's something… different, something more. It's what we can only label as a biological threat, a parasite of sorts."

"Like a disease?" Chase asked,

"No, diseases can be cured," his eyes flicked to the side, "well, most of them, but this thing isn't a sickness. It's… alive. We don't have a lot of data on what it is, exactly, we just know that it's a creature, a parasitic organism of sorts,"

"A week or so ago," he began, "there was a breach in a secret research facility. We're not paid to know the exact details, but one of their experiments escaped into the wild."

Cyrus reached to the folder that had been sitting on the table and opened it, revealing a bunch of papers and some polaroid photos. Chase watched intently as Cyrus pressed his paw on one of the photos and moved it to Chase's view. Looking down, Chase tried to focus on the photo before him. It was slightly dark, possibly taken in low light, and appeared to be of a still room. He could see tables and overturned chairs, like something barreled through the room and knocked everything over. The walls were covered in either waterfalls of wires and metal coils, or plagued in grime, giving the photo a sickly unkempt feel. Chase's eyes narrowed, focusing on one of the tables. There was a silhouette poking out of the corner, a small head, with an arm and paw sticking out as well. It was a dog, with tall ears and a narrow muzzle. It was too dark to identify any fine details, but the glowing pinpricks it had for eyes was clear as day.

"Is that a dog?" Chase asked, looking up at Cyrus,

"No, Chase," he shook his head, "meet Feroxmalis."

"Who?" the puppy asked, confused,

Cyrus sighed, clearly growing uncomfortable with relaying the information, "Feroxmalis is a unicellular organism. You know what that means, right? It means their entire body is simply one cell."

Chase nodded,

Cyrus continued, tapping his paw, "the Feroxmalis cell possesses parasitic traits. That dog in the photo was a test subject they injected the cell into. Within minutes, Feroxmalis has completely overtaken their body, taking control of their mind. You can't see it in the photo, but its skin slowly started decaying,"

Chase shrunk further into the chair as Cyrus leaned over the table, "Chase, its skin withered away. Sure, the dog's face is mostly intact, but the body is nothing but blood, bone, and vein-covered muscles. Once the Feroxmalis parasite enters your blood, you're turned in minutes. There doesn't seem any way to fight it back yet,"

"What?" Chase squeaked,

"To make matters worse," Cyrus growled, "the dog, -whom we can now safely refer to as Feroxmalis itself- has survival as its best interest. It wants to consume, it will attack and devour anything that crosses its path. And that thing is smart, Chase, it's smart enough to know when to hide and stay in the shadows. According to the research papers we were given, it knows to when to split off its main cell from the body to escape death. The old body is left to rot and decay, and Feroxmalis finds something- I don't know, a bug or a person- to ride on and find its next host."

Chase could barely say anything, his eyes widened and ears flattened, he barely make sense of what was being thrown at him.

"And when it does grow big enough," Cyrus shrugged, "the host's body begins to rupture, as it losing its skin wasn't enough. It becomes a horrific predator, using tendrils to snatch anything it comes across and drag it into its body, adding to its size and biomass until its nothing but a massive, dog-shaped, gorey monster looking to endlessly consume all life in the city!"

"And now this monster is loose in Adventure Bay," Cyrus finished, "we've seen the reports, local people and dogs are suddenly vanishing, it can't be a coincidence."

"You're kidding," Chase quivered, "this… this is why you're here,"

Cyrus nodded, "this is why we're closing off the city, and why we shut down your mission on the missing woman and dog. See, Feroxmalis is smart enough to know when to hide. It'll burrow itself into your bloodstream, but not instantly take over your brain. It literally hides inside you, waiting for the right moment to emerge. In fact, one of your Paw Patrol friends could have the parasite inside them right now and not even realize it."

"What?!" the Shepherd recoiled, horror creeping within him as he remembered Skye's lingering illness.

"So here's your special assignment," Cyrus concluded, "go home, and watch your friends. Take note of where they are at all times, and I do mean watch them. A sign of dormant infection could be excessive nosebleeds, hobbling, almost-drunken movement, or show symptoms of fever. The mission of the ACG is to find Feroxmalis, contain it, then return the monster to the facility. So if one of your friends ends up…" he stopped himself, noting the puppy's terrified expression, "look, if one of your friends ends being… the host… call me ASAP."

He passed Chase what looked like a pup tag, complete with a clip to be attached to a collar, "unless they're already merged into one being, Feroxmalis can't infect multiple bodies at once. So if you see it, call us, and we'll send over everything we have."

Chase looked down at the pup tag, the little piece of metal was clearly meant to be a lifeline, with the small button in the middle that would activate a homing beacon. Gulping fearfully, he reached a paw forward and took the tag.

"I'm sorry about our… brutally," Cyrus hung his head apologetically, "we're really trying to get this creature contained and out of here. So head home, keep in mind what I said, okay?"

Chase nodded, barely able to contain his horrified quivering. Taking the new pup tag in his mouth, he climbed down from the chair and left the room, a near traumatized expression on his face. Cyrus watched him go, fearing for the puppy's psychological health.