Part One: Ryko is Changed

Ryko was only fourteen years old.
He was in his bed, asleep when it happened. He woke up to feel a stinging sensation. After a groggy moment, he realized that it was Nanocrons entering his body. It had happened once before, when he had been exposed to deadly cold bacteria, and they had put Nanocrons into him, which had gone into his blood, and attacked the bacteria, thus ridding him from the dreadful disease.
At the moment, he had no such recollection of having a sickness, needing surgery, being hurt, or some such other reason for Nanocrons to be climbing under his skin and into his DNA. And thus, he panicked.
He cried out, launching out of bed, as if trying to shake the microscopic creatures out of him, though he knew it would do no good. Then he felt the pain.
He had only rarely felt pain, only when he was a littlun, being trained for the grown-up world, though after the moderate pain sessions, he had never felt it again.
Now he felt extreme pain, Surging through him and then ripping out again. He felt every vein break and then multiply, every bone tear itself to pieces before remolding itself into new bones, rapidly growing and increasing in mass. He felt every muscle stretch as long as it possibly could, then snap in two, and grow back together before stretching again. He screamed.
After the pain stopped, he could still feel it at the back of his mind, and was only vaguely aware of footsteps pounding closer to his room, the terrified voices calling his name.
He looked up at them from the floor as they entered his room, eyes brimming with tears. He heard a gasp, and his mother face was twisted into a mask of disgust. His father took an angry step closer, swinging the broom he held menacingly.
Ryko scrambled to his feet, attempting to evade the swinging broom.
"Get out of here, you filthy animal!" His father cried. Ryko froze.
"Dad, I’m-"
"BEAST! Get out of my house!" Screamed his mother. He felt anguish and horror cross his face, and this time, he did run. He scrambled out the door, crawling as fast as he could, and he heard the door slam shut behind him. It was raining.
He shook the water from his fur, staring at the door in-
Fur?
He paused, and ran his hands through his fur again. There was no mistaking it. Fur. He cried out, pulling his hands away. His tail, silky, gray, and bushy, was pressed fearfully between his legs. With these new developments, he checked down his body miserably, finding that his ears had grown longer and furry, like canine ears. His mouth was rimmed with sharp teeth, and he noticed he could smell everything.
He pulled himself up on two legs weakly, leaning on the wall beside him. He heard shouts inside, like someone was on the phone, and very angry. With a last look at his home these last fourteen years, he limped away, soggy, miserable, and lonesome.