The world is still glitching when I wake.
Snow hangs in the air, frozen mid-fall; wind drags sideways in broken frames. I move, and the world lurches a heartbeat later.
For a long moment I think I've died again.
Then the System's whisper threads through my skull:
«Synchronization: unstable.»
«Core anomaly expanding.»
«Directive: adapt or be purged.»
I rise on shaking legs. Frost smokes from my fur. Ember lies curled beside me, her flank rising and falling in shallow rhythm. She lived. Somehow, she lived.
The forest around us is wrong. The trees stretch too tall, bending like cathedral pillars. Bark splits open to reveal veins of light. The air hums with faint code—runes etched into the snow that rearrange themselves whenever I blink.
This isn't a forest anymore. It's an interface.
---
The human in me wants to call it beautiful.
The wolf only sees territory waiting to be claimed.
Both voices tremble at the power thrumming under the soil.
«Field-root detected: Echelon Node.»
«Warning: occupying anomaly signature = Entity [Unnamed Dire Wolf].»
«Recommendation: establish dominance to stabilize local reality.»
Dominance. The word claws down my spine. The instinct it wakes is almost comforting in its simplicity: stand, howl, claim.
But claiming means being seen. And the Algorithm always watches.
I step onto a frozen stream. My reflection jitters—half wolf, half silhouette of a humanoid form haloed in static. My fur ripples like liquid night; behind my eyes, amber data flickers.
When I breathe, frost and code drift out together.
---
Footsteps break the silence. Heavy. Patterned. Human.
I freeze. Scent floods my mind—oil, metal, sweat. Not the feral reek of beasts, but the sharp tang of civilization carried through rot. Impossible. No city should exist inside the Anomaly Field.
The forest parts like a curtain, and I see them:
Five figures in ragged environmental suits, rifles slung low. Helmets cracked, filters blinking red. They move carefully, weapons sweeping arcs. The insignia on their sleeves reads Recon Unit 13 – New Eden Expedition.
Humans.
My throat tightens. For a heartbeat I almost call out—some part of me still craving recognition, rescue, home.
Then I see the way their leader's visor glows. The same blue as the Algorithm's sigils.
---
She
They don't see a lost soul.
They see a reading—an anomaly signature worth extracting.
The leader raises a scanner. "Subject located. Power spike confirmed. Deploy capture lattice."
Metal pods hiss open. Lines of light whip through the air, forming a net that hums with containment code.
Ember whimpers. The noise snaps something in me.
I leap.
Bullets cut the air where I was standing; tracer rounds burn streaks through snow. The first soldier goes down before he can scream—his rifle crushed in my jaws. The others scatter, shouting data-codes that twist the ground under me into grids of fire.
«Warning: Hostile Users Accessing Field Layer.»
They're using the System like a weapon. My rage surges.
I answer in kind.
«Command: Howl.»
The world splits open. Sound becomes light. The containment net collapses into sparks. Two of them drop, helmets shattering. The last one fires a flare that bursts into a beacon of code—a call for something bigger.
I tear the beacon apart, but too late. The sky ripples. Static screams.
---
Ember's voice brushes my thoughts. Others are coming.
"I know," I growl. "We move."
We run through snow that melts into glass beneath our paws. Behind us, the forest rewrites again—trees folding inward, paths rearranging. It's hunting us with geometry.
The System won't let its tools die so easily.
---
Interlude – Third-Person View
From high above, surveillance drones drift like carrion birds. Their lenses track the anomaly trail cutting through the field—a streak of data corruption that shouldn't exist.
"Subject alpha re-manifested," the operator murmurs. "Non-conforming behavior. Directive?"
Static answers. Then a voice, metallic and calm:
"Observe. Adapt. When the wolf learns rebellion, we learn godhood."
The feed stutters. For a moment, the drones' identifiers change—each one bearing a single symbol: Ω.
—
The air tasted of blood.
Not the coppery sting of fresh kill, but the dry rot of things long dead. She moved through the ruin as if each step risked breaking the world.
«System.» Her thought pulsed like a prayer. «Status.»
—
[SYSTEM UPDATE]
User: Unnamed Alpha (Species: Lupine Aberrant)
Condition: Stable
Mana Core: Fragmented — Slowly Regenerating
Traits: Adaptive Metabolism, Lunar Instinct, Empathic Bond (Dormant), Night Vision+, Pain Threshold++
Available Evolution Paths: Pending Pack Formation
—
Her breath misted. She could see the faint outlines of something shimmering between the trees—blue motes like dying fireflies. Souls, maybe. Memories of the forest before it burned. She had no word for grief anymore, only the ache that came when she saw something alive flicker and fade.
Then came the sound.
Scratching. Wet breathing. A shuffle of claws against stone.
Predators.
No— survivors.
The creatures that emerged from the fog were wrong. Wolves, or what remained of them—one missing half its face, another with translucent skin stretched over bone. But they still moved like wolves, and when they saw her, they did not attack. They bowed.
Her heart stopped.
«Recognition... Pack?» she whispered through the bond of instinct.
The system answered.
—
[PACK SUBROUTINE UNLOCKED]
Detected: Lesser Dire-Wolves (Undead Variant)
Behavioral Pattern: Submission
Do you wish to initiate Alpha Link?
[Y/N]
—
She hesitated. Linking meant control—but also risk. Her empathy trait was still unstable; if she bonded to corrupted souls, the corruption might flow into her.
But they were alive—no, present. And she was so tired of being alone.
«Yes,» she thought.
Light burned through the fog. Threads of silvery code laced between her and the wolves, burrowing into their decayed flesh. They stiffened, then howled—a sound of pain, and renewal. The glow in their eyes shifted from red to white.
—
[PACK ESTABLISHED]
Members: 3
Link Strength: 24%
Corruption Containment: 89%
Pack Functionality: Instinctual Cohesion, Basic Tactical Awareness
—
She collapsed as the bond anchored in her mind. Their memories flooded her—hunger, fear, loyalty. One remembered the warmth of a pup before dying. Another saw the forest burn, waiting for orders that never came.
She screamed.
The sound was half human, half beast, a harmony of agony. The wolves whimpered, circling her, pressing their broken bodies against her fur as if to shield her from ghosts.
When the pain subsided, she could feel them—not just as shapes in her mind, but as extensions of her being. Their eyes were hers. Their hearts beat with her rhythm.
And beneath it all, something whispered:
Alpha.
---
Days passed. The bond grew.
They hunted together—silent ghosts in a dead land. The pack moved with purpose, each step synchronized. The system rewarded their unity.
—
[SKILL GAINED: Pack Coordination I]
Bonus: +5% Attack Efficiency, +5% Defensive Awareness
—
But with strength came temptation.
The hunger never stopped. The forest offered carrion, not meat. She could feel the pull—eat the weak, absorb their essence, evolve. That was the rule of this world.
Her wolves obeyed her restraint, though she could sense their starvation bleeding through the link. They were hers, bound by loyalty, but loyalty meant nothing to the primal void that gnawed at them.
On the fifth night, one of them snapped.
She found him crouched over a still-breathing fawn, the animal's throat torn open. The wolf's eyes glowed red again, feral with need.
«Stop!» she barked, but it was too late—the bond shuddered as his corruption surged through it. Her veins burned.
The system flared warnings.
—
[ALERT: CORRUPTION BACKFLOW DETECTED]
Mitigation Recommended: Purge or Assimilate
—
Purge meant kill. Assimilate meant become.
She stepped closer. The wolf turned on her, growling—a sound she once found comforting. Now it was hate.
«I will not lose you,» she whispered. Her claws trembled. She could feel her human heart begging her to show mercy.
But mercy was weakness here.
She struck.
One motion—fangs into skull, crack of bone, heat of blood.
Silence followed.
The other wolves watched, unflinching. The system recorded the act.
—
[UNIT TERMINATED]
Essence Absorbed: +1 Corruption, +3 Experience
Alpha Evolution Potential Increased.
—
Her body shuddered as power surged into her. The wolf's spirit flickered, then merged with hers. A spark of understanding: he hadn't disobeyed—he had simply been too hungry to live by her morality.
She lifted her muzzle to the moon and howled—not for dominance, but for sorrow. The sound echoed across the forest, shaking loose ash from dead branches.
That night, her evolution began.
The transformation wasn't glorious. It was pain made form. Bones realigned, fur fell away in strips, her body twisting between beast and human. She felt her old self—the girl she'd been before death—watching from within the agony.
When it ended, she knelt naked in the snow, trembling. Her reflection in a pool of ice looked nothing like the girl she remembered, nor the wolf she'd become.
Silver hair fell to her shoulders, her eyes burned with faint lunar light, and her hands—still clawed—quivered as if unsure whether to kill or to comfort.
She felt older. Not in body, but in spirit.
—
[EVOLUTION COMPLETE]
Species: Lupine Ascendant (Hybrid Form)
Age Appearance: 13 years (Prime Development Stage)
New Traits: Regenerative Veins, Alpha Presence, Adaptive Pheromones
Dormant Trait Reactivated: Empathic Bond
—
Her wolves approached, heads low. They still saw her as Alpha, but now their bond pulsed stronger—warmth, fear, reverence. She touched their skulls, and they calmed.
«We live,» she murmured. «We survive. But we do not lose ourselves.»
The system pulsed again—soft this time, almost approving.
—
[MORALE SUBSYSTEM ONLINE]
Loyalty Threshold Established.
—
Something was changing in the world.
The wind carried voices again—not of the dead, but of others. Intelligent. Awake. The ruins weren't empty.
She rose, her fur-lined body casting a shadow across the snow. Her wolves mirrored her stance.
A new hunt was beginning.
And this time, she would not run from her humanity. She would forge it into something new.
---
The snow had stopped falling, but the forest still whispered death.
Each tree was a monument of ash, each branch a brittle reminder of fire. The moon hung swollen above the ruin, painting the world in tones of bone and blue flame.
She walked at the head of her pack—bare feet pressing into frost, her silver hair catching faint light like a dying star. The wolves followed with soundless grace, their eyes dimmed but loyal, their bodies held together more by will than flesh.
Something in the distance was calling them.
Not prey. Not beast. Will.
The world itself seemed to hum with buried intent, as if unseen gods were watching the Alpha reclaim what had been lost.
---
They found it near dawn.
A human encampment, or what remained of one. Tattered tents formed a ring around a cold firepit. Weapons lay scattered in the dirt—swords rusted red, spears snapped, shields painted with sigils of a sun long dead.
The scent of rot was thick. Her wolves hesitated, hackles rising. But beneath the stench, there was another note—faint, trembling, alive.
«Stay,» she whispered.
Her wolves froze, obedient. She crept forward.
In the ruins of a wagon, half-buried under snow, she found the source: a boy, no older than ten. His arm was broken, his breath shallow. The frost had bitten deep, but not deep enough to claim him yet.
Her heart twisted. Human.
For a moment, her old self stirred—a flicker of the girl who'd died before all this. She remembered warmth. Names. The sound of laughter. Then the ache came again, sharp as fangs.
She crouched. Her shadow fell across the child. His eyes opened—hollow, terrified.
"P–please…" he whispered. "Don't eat me."
She blinked. The words pierced deeper than any blade.
«System,» she thought. «Why is he here?»
〈System pulse: Unknown entity detected. Human variant. Mana signature low. Potential: negligible.〉
«He's… just a child.»
〈System pulse: Survival parameters suggest consumption.〉
Her claws flexed.
For an instant she considered it. His warmth. His blood. The power it might yield. Hunger clawed at her belly, the primal part of her screaming that weakness deserved no mercy.
Then she remembered her vow: We do not lose ourselves.
"Eat me," he whispered again, shaking. "It hurts."
Her throat tightened. No monster should be begged like that.
She lifted him instead. The boy was light—too light—and his skin burned with fever. Her wolves whined as she carried him back to the firepit.
---
By the time night fell again, she had built a shelter from the broken tents and coaxed embers from half-frozen twigs. Her wolves curled around the perimeter, silent sentinels. The boy slept in her arms, his heartbeat fragile as glass.
She stared into the fire.
«System.»
〈System pulse: Query registered.〉
«Tell me… if I save him, what happens?»
〈System pulse: No direct gain. Loyalty potential minimal. Energy cost: high.〉
«And if I kill him?»
〈System pulse: Essence gain: +1. Corruption: +12%. Emotional degradation likely.〉
The silence after that answer was heavier than snow. She looked down at the boy, at his pale lips, at the way he twitched in dreams.
Her claws brushed his cheek. The skin was warm. Human.
Her humanity—her curse—stirred again.
«No,» she whispered. «He'll live.»
〈System pulse: Command registered. Subroutine—Moral Constraint active.〉
Firelight flickered over her face. For the first time, the system did not correct her choice.
---
By dawn, the boy's breathing steadied. He woke screaming, then stared, realizing his savior was not human.
"You're… a monster," he gasped.
She smiled weakly. "Maybe. But I remember being more."
He tried to back away, but her wolves growled. "Please," she said softly, "don't run. You'll freeze."
He hesitated, then nodded. Fear was still there, but so was curiosity.
"What are you?" he asked.
She looked at her reflection in the fire. Silver eyes, fur along her forearms, claws black as obsidian.
"I don't know anymore," she said. "Once, I was a person. Then I died. Now… I lead them." She gestured to the wolves.
The boy followed her gaze, shivering. "They look dead."
"They are," she replied. "But they remember loyalty. It's enough."
He didn't respond. Just stared into the flames. After a long while, he whispered, "My name's Alen."
She blinked. The name was small, fragile—like the ember between them.
Names mattered. They meant memory.
"I was…" She paused. Her old name clawed at the edge of her mind, half-forgotten. "I think it was—Lira."
"Lira?"
She nodded. "Yes. Lira."
〈System pulse: Identity anchor established.〉
Something shifted inside her—like a lock clicking open.
〈System pulse: Subroutine—Cognitive Reintegration online. Stability +12%.〉
Her wolves stirred, restless. The air grew heavy. Something was approaching.
---
It began with a tremor.
Then a scream—not human, not beast, but metallic.
A shape burst from the treeline: a creature of rusted armor and sinew, four-legged, eyeless, with a furnace burning in its chest. The stench of oil and blood filled the camp.
The wolves reacted first—forming a defensive ring around Lira and the boy.
〈System pulse: Hostile entity detected. Classification—Ironbound Revenant. Threat Level: High.〉
The monster lunged. One wolf was torn apart instantly, its body shredded by jagged claws.
Lira's vision went red.
She moved faster than thought—her claws met metal, sparks flew, the impact splitting her skin. Pain didn't slow her. The system's pulse roared in her veins.
〈System pulse: Adrenal surge. Damage—minor. Blood resonance rising.〉
She leapt, driving both hands into the creature's throat. Bone cracked. Steam hissed. It screeched, thrashing wildly, and flung her into a tree.
She hit the ground hard. Something inside her cracked. Her wolves lunged, biting at exposed joints, dragging the thing down by sheer desperation.
"Lira!" the boy shouted.
She staggered up. Blood ran down her arm, hot against the cold. The world tilted, sound muffled. Then her instincts took over.
If I die, they die.
She ran forward, screaming—a sound primal and defiant. Her claws sank deep into the Revenant's core.
The furnace inside it shattered.
The explosion threw her back again, fire swallowing the clearing.
Then—silence.
Ash drifted. The creature's body lay broken.
Lira crawled toward it, vision blurring. Beneath its chest, something glowed—a shard of blue metal, humming softly.
〈System pulse: Mana Core detected. Potential integration: High.〉
Her hands trembled as she reached for it. The core pulsed like a heartbeat. The moment she touched it, the world folded inward.
She was falling—through data, through memory, through herself.
Voices echoed in the dark.
— Lira, run!
— We're surrounded!
— Please don't leave me!
She saw the face of her brother—her brother—from her old life, before she'd died. His eyes filled with terror. Then the explosion, the pain, the nothing.
When she opened her eyes, she was kneeling in the snow again. The boy stared at her in awe. The wolves whimpered.
The core had fused into her chest—its glow pulsing faintly beneath her skin.
〈System pulse: Integration successful. New Trait: Ironheart Core. Defensive multiplier +20%. Essence stability: improved.〉
She stood, trembling. The pain was gone. The exhaustion replaced by something else—resolve.
"Lira," Alen whispered. "You saved me."
She looked down at him. The words struck deeper than he knew.
"No," she said. "I remembered why I should."
The snow swirled, and above them, the moon flared brighter than before.
〈System pulse: Loyalty rising…〉