Terrance could not turn off the competitive part of his brain. Even though this was supposed to be a "fun run" with no timekeepers, Terrance was determined to overtake the only runner ahead of him--one of the surprisingly quick runners from Ashcroft A&M (the school that was hosting regionals tomorrow).

Actually, Ashcroft A&M hosted the track-and-field regionals every year, apparently because they were recognized as excellent hosts even though they weren't a competitive track-and-field powerhouse. The "Country Run" that Terrance was currently struggling to win was part of why everyone loved traveling to Ashcroft for the event.

The annual event sent its participants across bucolic fields, burbling streams, and shaded groves... all of which were owned by the school and used for advanced agricultural research. Even better, the school hosted an amazing meal at the end of the run, complete with a pit barbecue, freshly-grown produce, and huge tubs of artisanal ice cream from the school's famous dairy store.

Even though some of the newer coaches might frown at their top runners stuffing themselves with food and stumbling across uneven terrain the day before regionals, more seasoned coaches soon convinced them that having all the teams participate took the hard edge off of the competition and built friendships that would last long beyond one day's events. That communal spirit also meant that the participants in the Country Run were not just the normal long-distance runners: All of the track and field team members participated in the run... largely because the barbecue was only open to those who participated. Technically, the coaches didn't sanction the event (muttering something about "liability" and "not wanting to irritate the vegans"), but they all had made sure their busses had arrived early enough that their athletes could participate.

As team captain, Terrance knew on an intellectual level that the event was about bonding and not about getting the best time. Despite that, he found himself straining to keep up with the surprisingly nimble Ashcroft runner, whose impressive lead only seemed to increase with time. As Terrance struggled with the uneven ground, dense humidity, and weird dense evening fog, he was shocked at how the Ashcroft runner scampered over the ground like he'd memorized every bump and blade of grass. Terrance splashed through a pleasant burbling creek and as he looked up the rise, he could barely make out the runner passing through a gate into a foggy field.

Terrance clambered up the rise and through a wooden gate with a cheerful "Country Run" sign on it and noticed the fog immediately seeming to get thicker. Terrance strained his eyes to make out where the runner had gone... and almost fell headfirst as he tripped over a pumpkin. "Cute," Terrance thought to himself. "They routed us through an actual pumpkin patch."

Normally, this wouldn't have been much of a problem, but the fog made it harder to see the pumpkins, much less the vines. As Terrance tripped yet again over a particularly thick loop of pumpkin vine, he hoped he wasn't destroying some super important pumpkin-related science. He assumed the Ashcroft guys wouldn't have routed the run through here if anything too breakable or important was present. Just to be safe, he slowed down and tried to pick his way through the pumpkin patch more carefully.

Unfortunately, his quarry continued to be almost supernaturally tuned into the terrain and had disappeared into the fog while Terrance had been stumbling. He could hear cheerful banter and taunting of more runners coming through the gate behind him, which soon quieted as--like Terrance--the runners realized they'd have to carefully navigate their way through the patch. They all knew that the "obstacle course" aspect of the Country Run was part of the fun, but Terrance couldn't imagine they had planned on this dense fog when they chose the route. Speaking of which, Terrance suddenly realized that without the guidance of the Ashcroft runner, he was actually not completely sure how to get out of the field. He could try to go where he had last seen the runner, but he'd actually lost his bearings when he had awkwardly stumbled. He supposed if he kept going in the same general direction, he'd eventually run into a fence and could follow it one way or the other to find a gate, but worried that might actually take him all the way around to where he started if he chose the wrong direction.

Terrance decided it was probably better to stop running and listen quietly and try to hear the location of the Ashcroft runner, and then follow those sounds. As Terrance stood perfectly still, he could hear more and more runners shuffling through the fog behind him, but all conversation seemed to have ceased. Even though he had stopped moving, he still couldn't hear the runner ahead of him. Terrance realized that he was still panting from the exertion of his running, so he tried to calm his breathing and take low, quiet breaths. At the same time, he noticed that the noise from runners behind him was now quieter as they carefully picked their way through the vines and obstacles hidden in the fog. Despite the improved acoustics, he still couldn't hear the leading runner.

But actually, now that everything had quieted, Terrance was able to hear a new, odd sound. He breathed as quietly as possible and focused all of his attention on his hearing and heard it again. The new noise didn't sound like footsteps... more like some sort of rubbing or sliding noise. Confusingly, it didn't seem to be coming from any consistent direction. One moment it seemed to be coming from his right, but a second later from his left, then from behind him.

For the first time since the run began, Terrance wondered if he should be concerned. He was in a strange fog bank in the middle of a remote field, and had no real idea where he was going. He felt lost in both a literal and figurative sense, and for a moment he struggled to fight back the unreasonable panic that had risen in his mind. But as Terrance focused on taking slow, deep breaths, he was able to re-establish the calm conviction that everything was fine. He was surrounded by friends and teammates, and nothing could really go wrong unless he panicked and did something reckless. He just needed to calm himself down and think his way through the situation.

Surprisingly, as his breathing continued to slow and his shoulders began to sag and lose their coiled tension, Terrance realized he was actually feeling pretty good. I was no accident that he had chosen to be a runner: he had always been driven to succeed, but now that he had no immediate goal, he was enjoying just... standing. Drifting. He hadn't realized how much pressure he had been putting on himself to lead... but now that he had let go of that pressure, it felt so wonderfully calming not to worry about setting the pace. For the first time in a long time, he could just relax and breathe. Just clear his mind and not have to control everything. Terrance felt that the field and even the damp air he was breathing seemed to be radiating peace and contentment, and he wanted nothing more than to breathe it in.

Some time later, Terrance woke with a start. To his confusion, he realized he'd drifted off and had basically fallen asleep on his feet, which was a little bizarre. He realized dimly that he should be concerned by losing consciousness, but that observation seemed abstract and unimportant. When he no longer heard any noise or conversation from the other runners behind him and the mysterious rustling sound had become much louder, he tried to rouse himself to action, but the effort collapsed as he continued to focus all of his attention on the peace and the contentment that seemed to saturate the air all around him, just waiting to be breathed in. Even when the rustling noise was matched with new sliding sensations on skin and he realized he did not seem to be able to move his limbs anymore, he couldn't shake the overwhelming feeling that everything was as it should be, and there was nothing he needed to worry about. In fact, there was nothing he needed to think about.

That unshakable calm only wavered when the rustling sound became overwhelmingly loud as something began pressing into his ear canal, followed by an intense sliding sensation and building pressure behind his eyes. For the first time, concern flickered across Terrance's face, but his body never seemed to be able to translate concern into coherent movement... even as the pressure in his skull continued to increase.

Fortunately, Terrance was overjoyed when the pressure building in his head suddenly released and a warm, welcoming orange glow began to fill his vision and spread throughout his body. Terrance could feel his anxiety evaporate, and realized it was last vestige of his need to control everything. As the glowing orange energy began to form more complex shapes and meanings inside his mind, he finally understood his true purpose and ambition was not to lead: Terrance now existed solely to serve.

As his mind continued to adapt to its new, higher purpose, Terrance let his master take control of its new thrall's body. While Terrance focused his mind on deepening its devotion to his new master, his body was precisely guided through his master's field to assist several other orange-eyed runners as they calmly and methodically loaded ordinary-looking pumpkins into a pickup truck parked nearby. For a brief moment, Terrance allowed himself a moment of self-indulgent pride that all of the other runners helping him were from the Ashcroft team, which meant that he had been the first of the visitors to join them in serving their master. Thanks to the vines that even now pulsed transformative knowledge into their brains, Terrance knew that while all of the other visitors were nearing their total enslavement, Terrance had fallen first and fastest. With the benevolent indulgence of his master, Terrance was allowed to savor his victory in the only race in his life that now truly mattered to him.

-----

As they finished loading the pickup truck with the pods their master would use to spread its control, a pulse traveled through the vines and reverberated in the minds of all of the slaves. They now knew that their master's plans relied on maintaining the deception that they still possessed their own free will. Even though they knew this was the best way they could serve their master, they felt a twinge of loneliness and abandonment as their master withdrew its tendrils from their minds.

But the impulse to serve their master immediately shifted their focus to implementing the next step in its glorious plans. As the slaves began running again, they had no uncertainty about the route. For the moment, their glowing eyes still signaled proudly that they were their master's property. They were, of course, bursting with joy at their enslavement, but as they left their master's field, they would all suppress that soothing glow to ensure they would more easily ensnare other humans into devoted service.

As he exited the field, Terrance realized he was at the head of the pack. The observation was noted, but did not evoke any pride in the runner, or emotion of any kind. The competitive part of Terrance's brain had finally been switched off after years of totally dominating his thoughts. Now his benevolent master would be the one totally dominating his thoughts, and Terrance understood that he had won the greatest victory of all.