That night Chase dreamed of a quiet town. He found himself walking through empty streets, blanketed in dense fog that obscured much of his vision. He tried to call out, but not a single soul answered him. Old cars laid abandoned in the streets, and empty stores and offices lined every building. Scraps of paper and leaves roamed free in the air, the distant sound of church bells ringing out an unknown distance away. Chase idly wandered the streets, turning his head around in an attempt to find someone, anyone to make sense of the forgotten world he'd been taken to. Hearing nothing but his own pawsteps and gently humming wind in his fur, he began to wonder if he was truly alone. However, he soon arrived at a new structure that had emerged through the fog: The Lookout. His ears stiffened in surprise as he looked up at the tower in confusion. The main entrance had several wooden boards nailed into it, barring anyone from accessing the elevator. Feeling a cold mist rise within him, Chase shakily approached his home until he stood before the blocked entrance. Hesitantly peering through the boards, he caught a glimpse of a dog standing in the open elevator. It was a German Shepherd, judging by the tail and ears, and was hunched over as if it was choking. Chase made an attempt to call out to it, and the dog slowly stopped moving and peered back at Chase. The dog had a look of hopelessness, resignation like it knew it had nothing left to live for. The dog began bleeding from the mouth, and Chase stepped back as the fog closed in around him.

Chase opened his eyes, awakening from the dream. He sat up sharply, the cold feeling still lingering inside him. A few tears instantly left his eyes, the shrouded loneliness of the dream leaving a scar on his mind. He shook his head, trying to push away the empty ambiance that filled his head as he slowly broke into a quiet sob.

The returning drive back to The Lookout felt unreal, almost static, as Chase struggled to process the presence of a parasitic monster in Adventure Bay without trying to crash his rig. Watching the road was almost hypnotizing, lulling Chase into a bland state of numbness that seemed to block the sounds of everything around him. At that moment, all he could hear was distant white noise in his head. Scratching groans that could only be identified as a broken guitar repeatedly churned in his ears, and an oddly soothing feeling washed over him. Upon returning home, he didn't acknowledge his friends or see if they were around, just went right to bed. Now awakened from his dream, Chase heard the falling rain tap against the roof of his kennel, quiet thunder echoing in the distance. Checking his wall clock, the Shepherd realized it was only four in the morning. Lowering himself back onto his bed, he tried to shut his eyes and fast-forward through the night by falling back into slumber, although his body refused to rest.

Was it true what Cyrus had said? Chase pondered over what Cyrus had told him, his tail curling underneath him in silent distress. A monster in Adventure Bay, a creature who killed others without remorse, never in his life had he encountered such a thing. He had watched the news plenty of times, leaning back in horror and disgust as he read about the atrocities going on in the world around him, but never once had something of the sort entered his own city. A monster who dragged innocent victims to merge with itself, a cold, emotionless figure who held no concept of mercy. And the worst of all, a detail that left a dark stain on Chase's mind, the creature could hide dormant in the bodies of others.

Surely that had been a lie, a cruel, twisted joke from the captain to scare the small puppy. The police dog's eyes watered again as a mellow wave of sound entered his head, complete with a flickering melody that resembled a grieving piano. He tried to force it out, but a foul image stabbed into his head. He saw his beloved friends; Marshall, Rocky, Zuma, Rubble, Skye, and Everest, their bodies leeched and ensnared into one another. The monster's bloodied tendrils sewed them together as it slowly overpowered their minds, merging them into one horrible being. He violently shook his head, getting up to pace around his kennel as his body began quivering. Someone in Adventure Bay was being used as a shell, containing the monster as it silently hid within their body. Chase stopped, staring ahead at his wall as a somber song wept in his mind. If this person, this host, was not found and destroyed as soon as possible, everything he knew and loved would be at risk.

"I won't let this happen," Chase breathed out, then turned to exit his kennel,

He walked out through the entrance and entered the rain, instantly soaking his brown fur. The night had shrouded the land around him, but he knew exactly where he was going. Walking through the rain, he traversed across the wet grass into the trees. He had no fear of the darkness around him, nor of the pounding rain like Rocky. For a moment he barely noticed how wet he was getting, his mind overtaking his senses and seemingly blocking them out.

Eventually, he came to a large hatch in the ground with a rusted turning wheel sticking out. It was slightly flooding over from the rain, but he knew from when it was built all those years ago that it was well watertight. All he had to do was turn the wheel a few times, and the steel hatch would slowly unlock, its secrets ready to be exposed. Chase sighed and placed his paws on it.

"Chase?" called a voice behind him,

The police dog spun around in surprise, a shocked expression plastered on his face. He relaxed when he recognized a familiar Chocolate Lab.

"What awe you doing out hewe?" Zuma raised an eyebrow, tilting his head,

"Why are you out here?" Chase countered, turning to face the Lab.

"Because I like walking in the wain, you know that," he replied, then looked out past Chase, "what's that on the gwound?"

The Shepherd looked away, gentle shame resting over him. He wanted to lie and say it was nothing, but Zuma wasn't an idiot. He realized there was no hope in trying to play it off, so Chase resigned and opened up to his friend.

"Promise not to tell anyone?"

"Uh, suwe, but what is it?"

"It's a bunker," Chase explained, "Ryder had it built back when the Paw Patrol was just beginning,"

"Oh cool!" Zuma bounced, wagging his tail slightly, "what's in it?"

"You sure you want to know?"

"Well, yeah," the Lab walked closer, "I'm cuwious now,"

Chase sighed and returned to facing the hatch, "just remember, you promised not to tell anyone," he placed his paws on the wheel and rotated it a few times to the left. Inner mechanisms could be heard underneath at work, slowly unlocking the dark vault of painful tools Chase fought for years to never touch.

"Can you actually give me a paw with this?" he asked apologetically, coming to the handle that stretched across the front side in his teeth. Zuma nodded and walked to the opposite side, clamping his teeth into the other end of the handle. With a small count to three, they grunted and pulled with all their might, slowly opening the large hatch. It made an unsettling noise as it opened, like a creaking, elderly man trying to open his jaw. Warm air began escaping from the bunker, the moonlight illuminated a narrow staircase as rain already began invading through the opening.

Zuma peered down into the dark corridor, "wow," he breathed in awe. Chase took a deep breath and began descending the staircase, motioning for the Lab to follow him. The dogs were bathed over with warm air as they traveled down, both jumping slightly as the hatch loudly closed behind them. After a few moments, they reached the solid concrete ground and Chase flicked a light switch with his nose. Light suddenly shone brightly from the overhead lights, banishing the darkness from the corners of the bunker. Zuma could be heard gasping as the narrow corridor's contents were finally revealed. The bunker was simply a large hallway that stretched out an impressive length. The walls were lined with crates and wall hangers, all displaying various displays of weapons and tactical gear.

Zuma's glee of discovering something new was quickly replaced with surprise, then bled into horror, "what... is all this?" he asked fearfully, resting his eyes on a large riot shield that leaned against the wall, shining in the light.

"The police division refers to this as riot gear," Chase explained, "I've had this stuff for years, just never needed to use any."

The Lab seemed frozen to the floor, fearing that taking even a step would accidentally set off something explosive. Chase however was already walking around, looking at each item up and down. He passed by shelves of idle tear gas grenades, forever waiting for their rings to be pulled, leading to the spewing of irritant gas that could make anyone clear away. Zuma fearfully crept past a wall of tasers and batons, bulletproof vests hanging on hooks.

"Chase," he began, "why awe we hewe?"

The Shepherd sighed and looked back at his friend, "I just needed to get something," he approached a small case sitting against the wall. It shone in polished silver, resting in place as if it was hibernating. Carefully avoiding eye contact with Zuma, he gently undid the clasps and opened the case. His eyes laid to rest on a sight he previously swore he'd never see again: a small handgun. The standard issue for police officers, a semi-automatic pistol meant to be holstered on one's person. A tool for control and violence officers of the law were trained to be unafraid of drawing. The Shepherd tried to prepare himself for a shudder that would coarse through his body, but it never came. He expected himself to be unsettled at the sight of the gun, but he was oddly unfeeling at its presence, like finding an item you had lost some time ago.

Feroxmalis, the parasite that could be stalking the bodies of Adventure Bay as they spoke, had to be stopped. Chase would never sleep again if the city fell to ruin and he could've done something about it. If it was true that Feroxmalis was hiding inside someone, then he would have to do what had to be done.

He had to find the host, whoever it may be, and kill them. It was his duty as a police dog to protect the people he cared about, and he is damned if he didn't pull out every stop to hunt down the threat. Before Zuma could see the weapon, he quickly shut the case, making a mental note to return later with his pup-pack. The pack had a secret compartment meant to hold and holster the gun. It was never a modification, his pup-pack always had it since day one, yet Chase resented using it, and the gun he was given forever hibernated in the artillery bunker hidden in the forest.

Until now.

Zuma could be heard shuffling back the hatch, eager to escape the corridor that contained the tools of violence and order, "we missed you at the Pup Pup Boogie contest," he said nervously, trying to steer into a more light-hearted conversation.

Chase turned back to him, pushing the gun case back into place, "sorry, I had an errand to run,"

"It's fine," Zuma slightly lowered his head, "we had to stop eawly because Skye was coughing,"

It was those words that made Chase's ears shoot up in alarm, and he prayed Zuma didn't notice. A freezing wave of dread rushed him over, stabbing into his head as his heart quickened. The Shepherd seemed to draw back, attempting to hide his recoiled expression, but faint twitches of his face betrayed him. A horrible truth rose from the depths of all that was horrible and seized Chase, and his heart sunk. Cyrus never mentioned if the monster had a preference for the bodies it hid in, meaning his own Paw Patrol was at even more risk than he had imagined.

He slowly looked toward Zuma with a fearful expression, and the Lab stepped back in unease. Hastily, Chase studied the other dog up and down, flicking his eyes to each corner of the Lab, searching for the smallest hint of something amiss.

"Chase?" wearily asked the Lab, slightly retracting in discomfort, "why awe you looking at me like that?"

Narrowing his eyes, the Shepherd slowly moved to the side, flexing his paws with faint movements, "why are you outside in the pouring rain at four in the morning?" he pressed the question as he began approaching Zuma, sniffing around him.

"I told you I wanted to walk in the wain," the smaller Lab stepped back, unease growing within him, and his flight response was mere moments away from sending him into a run.

Chase raised an eyebrow, then sighed as he relaxed, "sorry, I'm just on edge,"

"Why though?"

Flicking his eyes back to the gun case, the Shepherd shook his head, pushing away the gentle chimes that rung in his head, "just... bad dreams."

As the night went on, they left the bunker and shut the hatch behind them. Chase made the Lab swear up and down he wouldn't disclose its location to anyone, warning him that it was "federal property." As they returned to their respective dens, Zuma shrugged off the tense night and went to bed. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon when the clock struck six in the morning, an orange hue bleeding into the sky. No one noticed Chase slip away back into the forest, this time wearing his pup-pack. He returned to the bunker and retrieved his handgun, holstering it into the hidden compartment of his pack. Chase's mind was screaming, his unease flooding him over as he felt himself disconnecting from the world around him. Who could he trust? Could anyone be trusted if they were all possible hosts for the parasite? Grimacing as he left the bunker again, now secretly armed, he returned to The Lookout and gave a sweeping look at all his friends' kennels. Their homes made a circle around The Lookout, a ring of dens each pup would find solace in.

Chase grimaced and returned to his own kennel as the sun began rising further on the horizon, yet the world around him seemed to appear in dense gray. The static in his head was noticeably becoming louder.