Gears of AR

Chapter 1
Part 1

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Chapter Description: Clayton Carmine and his niece Lizzie are transporting top secret materials when they are attacked. They soon find out what the top secret is and what it does, the hard way.

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It was supposed to be just another transport during the uprising of the Swarm. Clayton Carmine and his niece Lizzie were transporting a shipment of unknown chemicals to New Ephyra.

“Why didn't they tell us what we're transporting?” asked Lizzie, the twenty-five-year-old corporal. She wore the usual armor, which was very thick and very heavy. It was chest armor without sleeves, with two circular metal disks on the chest. The pants were thick leather with metal armor on the knees and lower legs. The outfit wouldn't be complete without the signature helmet and mask, which had blue glowing eyes.

“Because it's a need-to-know kind of thing.” said Clayton, the Grub Killer. He too was in similar armor, only sized up for his bulky forty-six-year-old frame. Years of war and fighting had bulked him up quite a bit, and he had several Gears tattoos on his arms. Their helmets never came off, so their true appearance was a mystery to most.

“Right, and we need to know.” said Lizzie. “It could be explosive or poisonous for all we know.”

“It's probably something to help bust a few bugs.” said Clayton. “Whatever it is, it's very important that it gets to the lab in New Ephyra.” They continued to drive in their huge armored transport, the Minotaur. There were a few others in their convoy, all carrying various chemicals and cargo as well.

As they drove down the crumbling road and flaming wreckage of the city, they were suddenly attacked by the Swarm. A flying troop transport group came in guns blazing, and dropping drones on the ground to mount an assault. It seems like they wanted their cargo just as much.

“Damn it!” shouted Clayton. “Of course they attack now.” He pulled the truck around and got out with his huge Lancer assault rifle and buzzed the chainsaw on it. “Who wants some?!”

“Lets kick some ass!” shouted Lizzie, hopping out with her gun as well, and putting many holes in the drones. As bodies dropped and heads popped, more enemies appeared on armored transports of their own. “Look out! There's more incoming!”

“I see them!” shouted Clayton. The two fought with the drones and were joined by a few of their own supporting soldiers. He stood by the truck, protecting the cargo, when suddenly a hail of gun fire struck the side. “They're damaging the cargo!”

“Then shoot them!” shouted Lizzie.

Clayton continued to shoot, but he felt something wet land on him. He looked up and saw that whatever got shot in the truck was leaking on him. Suddenly a large amount of it spilled on him, covering him from head to toe. It was a thick liquid, but also cold and seemed to evaporate soon after it touched his skin. “Oh shit!” he shouted. “Whatever it is got on me!”

“We'll deal with it later!” shouted Lizzie. “Lets kill these things!”

“Roger!” shouted Clayton, and he aimed up, taking out a few more. As he fought, he began to feel a rush of energy and vitality. Aches and pains were fading away. “Whew! I feel great!” He reloaded his gun and kept taking out more drones.

“Good to know!” shouted Lizzie, tossing a grenade into a group of them and scattering them across the battlefield.

“No, seriously!” shouted Clayton, sounding a bit less raspy now. “Whatever that stuff was, I think it healed me!”

“Oh I have to get me some of that!” shouted Lizzie. “Too bad you let it get blown to hell.”

“Save it!” shouted Clayton. “They're almost done!” The battle raged on and on, until eventually what was left of the enemy withdrew. “Take that you sons of bitches! Yeah!” He felt better than he had in nearly twenty years.

“Great work out there.” said Lizzie. She noticed something seemed off about Clayton though. “You look different.”

“Heh, what do you mean?” he asked. “Do I have something on me?” It was then that he noticed his armor had shifted a bit, and he had to readjust it. His weapon also felt a bit heavier. “Maybe that stuff is wearing off.”

“Maybe.” said Lizzie. “Maybe it's doing something else. Did your armor get damaged?”

“I think it may have.” he said, adjusting it again. “It feels a bit loose.”

“Looks it too.” she said, looking him over. “Hey, your tattoos are gone!”

“What?!” shouted Clay. He looked at his arms and noticed that indeed his precious tattoos were gone, leaving behind bare skin. “Those were my pride and joy! That stuff must have removed them!”

“That's not all it did.” said Lizzie, walking up to him. “You seem shorter.”

“Shorter?” asked Clay. He looked at his hands and at Lizzie. She looked taller. “Did you get taller on me? I thought you were done growing.” If she were able to see his face, she would see that it had become free of any blemish or facial hair.

“No way Uncle Clay.” she said, walking around him. “That stuff is making you younger!”

“Seriously?!” he yelped, his voice cracking a little. “Damn it all!” He shuffled and hiked up his pants to keep them from falling, but they were so heavy. “We have to get to New Ephyra ASAP! Maybe they can fix this.”

Lizzie chuckled. She had never seen her uncle this young before. He looked kind of cute in his ever growing armor. “Yeah, lets go.” she said, getting in the truck. “But I drive this time.”

“F-fine!” said Clay, shuffling into the passenger side, trying to keep his big boots on. His helmet was starting to feel too big on his now seventeen-year-old frame. His muscles were fading away, becoming scrawny limbs.

Lizzie just looked over at him and chuckled. He looked like he was slowly deflating like a balloon.

“It's not funny!” shouted Clay, sounding more childish. He squirmed in his large heavy armor. “This sucks!” He complained, though it sounded more like whining.

“Maybe for you.” said Lizzie. “I think it's kind of cute.”

“I am NOT cute!” he protested. Then he squirmed some more. “Um, can you pull over please?”

“What? Why?” asked Lizzie.

“I uh, kind of have to pee.” said Clay, holding his crotch.

Lizzie laughed loudly. “What's the mater uncle?” she asked. “Can't hold it till we get there?”

“N-no!” squeaked Clay. “I don't think I can!”

Lizzie just grinned as she pulled the truck over and let Clay out. “Go on then!” she said. “Just hurry back before we get attacked again.”

Clay clumsily got out of the truck, stumbling around in his over-sized boots. He clomped around, doing his best to hold his pants up, until he was able to hide behind some debris. He let his pants go just in time to do his business. He didn't want to look down, for fear of what he might see. Once he was done he hiked his pants back up and waddled back.

Lizzie chuckled while watching him. He looked even smaller than when he left. She guessed he must not even be in his teens anymore. He looked so silly shuffling around in his armor.

Clay just blushed under his helmet, which was comically large on his head. He climbed back up into the truck, which was more difficult now, and they were on their way again. Gaps were forming in his teeth where his adult ones had retreated.

“Did you go potty?” asked Lizzie. “I'm so proud of my little uncle.”

“Shut up!” shouted Clay. “Damn it! I'm turning into a little kid! This is so embarrassing.”

“Just so you know, I'm not changing any diapers.” Lizzie teased.

“Ugh...” Clay mumbled. “I didn't want to think about that. Thanks.”

Lizzie just drove on and glanced down at Clay every now and then. By the time they had gotten to New Ephyra he looked like he was about eight-years-old. “Oh my god, you're a child!” she shouted. “You look so cute in that big armor.”

“Not cute!” shouted little Clay, squeaking like a child. “J-just pull around back. I don't want them to see me like this.”

Lizzie did as he said and they parked behind a building. “They're going to wonder where you are though.” she said.

“Just tell them I took a hit and need medical attention.” said Clay. “Only they can see me since they'll be the ones to fix this.” He struggled to get out of his seat and his boots fell off with a loud thunk. His chest armor was now too heavy for him to wear, but he tried anyway, waddling awkwardly.

Lizzie couldn't help but giggle at him looking so awkward, especially when he stumbled forward and his bare bottom was exposed. “Oh what a cute little butt you have!” she said with a laugh.

“D-don't look!” he squeaked, trying to stand back up, doing his best to keep his helmet on. “Help!”

Lizzie walked over and helped the little man back up. He looked so small and helpless, like he was a kid playing dress up. “Look, I know you don't want to give up your dignity.” she said. “But this stuff is just too heavy for you now.”

“No way!” said Clay. “I'm not giving up my armor. I already lost my tattoos, that's already too much. Just, please, go get the medics.”

“Oh fine, be that way.” said Lizzie. “Stay put until I come back.” She quickly ran into the base to get the medics.

Clay just sat inside his armor and waited as he continued to shrink. He was beginning to get worried that he actually would end up back in diapers. The thought of being a useless, mewling little infant in front of the other men made him want to scream to the heavens. His armor felt heavier and heavier as his height lowered. Inside his armor he felt his soft skin grow even softer and even plump a little with baby fat. His teeth felt funny and when he ran his tongue across them, he noticed his baby teeth were starting to grow back. He just sat and held his helmeted head in his little hands.

When Lizzie returned, she saw he had shrunk even more, and appeared to be about six-years-old now. He could almost use his armor like a fort. She smiled when he stood up in it, looking up at her, still wearing his huge helmet.

“W-well?” he asked, holding his chest armor up.

“Don't worry.” said Lizzie. “The others think you are wounded, but when I mentioned to the medics that those chemicals spilled on you, they seemed to know what it was, and have prepared an antidote.”

“G-good.” said a grumpy little Clay. “After I grow up again, don't mention this to anyone.” He snuffled his armor up again, but it was mostly useless at covering him now.

“Oh, don't be so grumpy.” said Lizzie. “Besides, I want to enjoy this a bit more before they fix you.” She chuckled and picked him up, trying to get him out of his armor.

“No way!” Clay squealed, kicking and flailing. He pushed against her with his weak little bare feet but it was no use.

“C'mon little man.” she said. “Let it go.” She smiled and tickled him under his arms.

Clay couldn't help himself. He began to giggle and squirm, flailing around like crazy, and eventually let go of his armor. “N-nooooo!” he shouted, covering himself with his hands. He looked so small, smooth, and adorable. There were no signs of adulthood anywhere on him. Even his huge helmet made him look tiny and weak.

“Awww, but you're just so cute!” said Lizzie. “Maybe I can take care of you for a while before you get the antidote. You seem to have stopped shrinking at least.”

“Don't you dare!” little Clay complained. “I'm your uncle, not your kid! Now put me down!” He protested and flailed impotently as he was held in her arms.

“Shhh, don't be so loud or the others may hear you and come running.” said Lizzie. “Children aren't allowed in the base. They may kick you out or put you up for adoption.” She joked, but loved his reactions. She wanted to take full advantage of the situation as it was a rare opportunity. She never really thought about having a child of her own, but maybe this would give her a bit of practice.

“What is taking them so long?!” he shouted, but in a hushed tone. “Put me down! Please!”

“Well, I thought it would be fun if we kept you this way for a while. Maybe we can have them make you some tiny armor to wear.” she teased, bouncing him a bit. “The standard issue child pajamas are so boring. I'm sure you could get along with the other kids in the city.”

“N-never!” said Clay, crossing his little arms. He was glad he had stopped getting younger, but still felt tiny and helpless in her arms. “C'mon Lizzie! I wanna be big again!”

“You will uncle!” she said, teasing him some more. “In a little while.” She laughed as he groaned and continued to cover himself.

“Coochie coochie coo!” she said, tickling him, making him giggle. He sounded so cute at this age. She would continue to have a bit more fun with him before he received the antidote, and never told anyone, though she would never let him live it down in private.

To be continued...

 

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