Rhyvan studied the data scrolling across the SW screen, the shifting light reflecting in his eyes. With each line he read, his expression darkened.

  If even half of this information was real, it was a miracle the Voss Group hadn’t already wiped them out.

  Then again… maybe they simply hadn’t decided whether he was worth more alive.

  He lifted his gaze to the man standing across from him.

  “Those two you captured…” Rhyvan said slowly. “Are they safe?”

  Ray nodded once.

  “Yes. No harm came to them. We’re not as cruel as you might think.”

  Rhyvan exhaled. Some of the tension slipped from his shoulders, but the uneasy feeling in his chest only deepened. Every answer seemed to pull him further into something far bigger than he had expected.

  Still, he pushed forward.

  “Let’s say I believe you,” he said. “What do you want from us?”

  Ray answered without hesitation.

  “We want you to work with us. I don’t know the situation abroad, but here in Cifad… less than ten percent of the population is still human. We need help protecting what’s left.”

  Rhyvan frowned.

  “There are only twenty of us. Your people have tanks, firearms, laboratories.”

  He spread his hands slightly.

  “What could we possibly offer that you don’t already have?”

  A thin smile crossed Ray’s face.

  “Manpower. Adaptation.”

  He gestured lightly toward the gathered werewolves.

  “The remaining humans are breaking—mentally and physically. The virus is evolving faster than we predicted.” His gaze settled back on Rhyvan. “You may hold the key.”

  Rhyvan blinked.

  “You want us to turn people into werewolves?”

  “Not everyone,” Ray replied calmly. “But selectively? Possibly. We’re running out of time… and options.”

  Silence settled between them.

  The idea rolled through Rhyvan’s mind like dice in a shaking cup.

  Finally, he asked the only question that mattered.

  “Why should I trust you?”

  Ray’s expression cooled slightly.

  “You shouldn’t,” he said. “Not completely.”

  A brief pause.

  “But we’re still standing here talking after everything that happened before.”

  His eyes narrowed just a fraction.

  “That should tell you something.”

  One of the younger werewolves suddenly stepped forward, a low snarl rising in his throat.

  “You think we’re that desperate?!”

  In the next instant he lunged.

  To Rhyvan’s eyes, Ray barely moved.

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  The man blurred forward.

  A sharp crack split the air as the werewolf slammed face-first into the ground. Ray’s boot planted firmly on the boy’s spine before the others could even react.

  The clearing fell silent.

  Ray didn’t raise his voice.

  “Control your pack, Rhyvan.”

  His gaze swept calmly across the others.

  “Being a werewolf doesn’t make you invincible.”

  A quiet pause.

  “The world is changing very quickly.”

  His eyes hardened slightly.

  “And it won’t be in your favor.”

  Rhyvan stared at Ray, rage burning in his throat.

  He forced it down.

  Instinct told him the truth—if a fight broke out now, he wouldn’t be able to take Ray down quickly. And in a battle like that, hesitation meant death.

  “If you people are this strong,” Rhyvan said at last, his voice tight, “why not stop the virus yourselves?”

  Ray answered without the slightest irritation.

  “Because we don’t have time.”

  Rhyvan’s lip curled.

  “And if we refuse?”

  Ray’s faint smile returned, calm and patient—as if the question had already been answered long ago.

  “You won’t,” he said. “You already know what’s coming.”

  A brief pause.

  “You’re just buying time to accept it.”

  Rhyvan’s jaw tightened. He ground his teeth before speaking again.

  “I want to speak with Kai Voss. Directly.” His voice hardened. “I won’t let my family be used for some dirty experiment. We may not be human anymore…”

  His gaze flicked toward the others behind him.

  “…but some part of us still is.”

  Ray studied him for a moment, then nodded once.

  “Understood. I’ll arrange it.”

  Rhyvan gave a short nod in return.

  “Are we all meeting here?”

  Ray turned away.

  “You don’t have a choice,” he said casually over his shoulder. “You’ll be under our supervision either way.”

  He started walking.

  “Let’s move.”

  Capital Ruins – Ba Clan Residence

  Denzai crouched at the base of the stairwell, scanning the ruined lobby with slow, careful movements. The hallway ahead was dim and silent, thick with the coppery stench of blood.

  The elevator was dead, its doors hanging open like a broken mouth.

  The bodies were not.

  Clan members lay scattered across the floor, some torn apart so badly that they were barely recognizable. Limbs were twisted at unnatural angles, dark stains spreading across cracked tiles.

  But he didn’t see his wife.

  He didn’t see his daughter.

  Not yet.

  Denzai lifted two fingers toward Diwa and pointed upward.

  They climbed the stairs slowly, placing their weight with care. The old boards groaned under even the lightest step, and every sound felt dangerously loud in the suffocating quiet.

  Then they heard it.

  “Jeez… jeez…”

  A faint scraping sound drifted down the hallway.

  Denzai froze, listening.

  Again.

  “Jeez… jeez…”

  Metal dragging against concrete.

  Closer this time.

  He slipped the dagger from his belt—the one he had borrowed from Diwa earlier. Sweat coated his palm, and he wiped it quickly on his pants before tightening his grip around the handle.

  They moved toward the corner.

  Denzai leaned out just enough to see.

  A creature crouched in the hallway, roughly the size of a large dog. Large patches of fur had fallen away from its body, leaving gray, diseased skin exposed beneath clumps of dried blood. Its ribs showed through the flesh, twitching as it breathed.

  Then its head snapped toward him.

  Its eyes locked onto Denzai with unnatural focus.

  Not good.

  He reacted instantly.

  The dagger left his hand in a single smooth motion.

  It spun once before burying itself deep in the creature’s skull.

  The body dropped where it stood.

  Denzai didn’t wait to confirm the kill. He spun around and rushed back down the stairs.

  Behind him the creature let out a final dying hiss.

  “Nyhwoo!”

  Diwa followed close behind, and the two of them slid beneath a pile of corpses at the bottom of the stairwell, hiding themselves among the bodies despite the overwhelming stench.

  Moments later, they heard movement above.

  Heavy footsteps.

  Claws scraping the floor.

  More creatures were coming down from the upper levels.

  Six.

  Maybe seven.

  Denzai met Diwa’s eyes in the darkness.

  He gave a small nod.

  They would wait.

  Then strike.

  “Pweee.”

  The sound was soft, but unmistakable.

  Denzai’s expression twisted slowly as he turned his head.

  Diwa stared back with wide eyes.

  “Sorry,” he mouthed, face pale.

  Too late.

  The creatures stopped moving.

  Their heads turned in unison.

  One snarled.

  Then the entire pack charged.

  Diwa lunged first, driving his blade down toward the nearest monster. The knife struck its thick hide but slid off without breaking through.

  The creatures roared.

  Denzai kicked the first attacker square in the jaw, knocking it sideways before rolling beneath the swipe of another claw. Teeth snapped inches from his throat as he scrambled to his feet.

  Six against two.

  Terrible odds.

  Denzai and Diwa fought back-to-back, striking, dodging, and countering in tight movements that left no room for mistakes. Every second felt like a step closer to death.

  “Why the hell did you fart?” Denzai growled as he deflected a claw with his forearm and kicked the creature away.

  “It just happened!” Diwa shouted, his face burning red while he swung wildly at another attacker.

  Above them, hidden in the shadowed stairwell, a pair of red eyes watched the fight unfold.

  Silent.

  Patient.

  Waiting for the perfect moment to join the hunt.