"Well, your majesty," the doctor says with a smirk, "with the complete resequencing on your genome, you are no longer heir to the throne, nor will your offspring, if any, ever be."
The Fox boy stares dully.
The doctor sighs, and injects something into the IV connected to the subject's arm.
"Yuck, everything tastes sour!" The Fox boy exclaimed.
"Side effect of the injection. Reflect back boy, on how obedient you have been since becoming a fox. Your new genetic temperament is to be a natural submissive, a born slave, and that is your nature now. But the injection, well, it frees up your memories of being human. This way you will remember how you were nearly emperor of the universe. You were a powerful prince that people had to obey. Now you have to obey people. You will try to resist, but your new nature will make you fail. Your new owner will have so much fun breaking you. Perhaps the new Crown Prince will buy you as a pet? He would really be his brothers keeper then."
Need to be owned? Yes, yes, the Fox boy knew he needed to be owned. He was horrified. He was a prince, he wasn't a slave. Or was he?
"Oh, I need something from my office," the scientist said with a frown. He pointed at the foxboy and ordered, "Stay boy!"
The doctor had left him alone in the lab. Was it a test? Or - hm, the computer console was within reach, if he stretched. The idea of getting off the examination couch, and walking to the exit never occurred to him. He had to stay.
Yes! He reached the portable computer console, and puled it towards himself. He keyed in the imperial access code, the screen requested verification. First, the retinal scan failed. Then the facial recognition failed. Then biometrics test failed. Finally, the full body scan verification activated. Various radiation spectrum scans caused his fur to twitch, but in the end, the computer proclaimed verification failed. Access denied
The former prince bit his black fox lips. He would try something else.
The device activated the molecular tattoo scan. A series of 1's and 0's flickered across the screen.
Bing.
Subject identified.
Yes.
The window opened, but it didn't display the image of the former crown prince. Instead there was a photo of the naked fox boy that he now was. The molecular tattoo apparently was changed or was now linked to a new data file. He read, "Lot 68, Auction Date ..." tomorrow!