The ridge path was a narrow cut of broken stone threading between two hills. Wind swept cold over the pines, and the moon hung lower now—its light no longer dragging at the pack's nerves. Ethan walked in silence, Shadow Cloak sheathing him in soft distortion. Alpha Sense streamed faint lines across his awareness: the quarry pack behind him, mostly dissolving into homebound patterns, while ahead, a single thread stretched—thin, stealthy, pulsing with a careful human heartbeat.
The Operator.
The Panel highlighted it with a subtle pulse.
---
PANEL — TRACKING THREAD FOUND
Signature: Human — unshifted
Behavior: Avoidant, trained, familiar with pack borders
Distance: 1.4 km ahead
Status: Unaware of pursuit
Suggested Action: Capture non-lethally. Interrogate on anchor origins.
Ethan eased into a low run, boots silent over damp soil. The thread led downhill toward a cluster of abandoned mining shacks, iron roofs rusted and bent under the long winters. A small lantern glowed through broken boards. Someone moved inside—paced, muttered, paused.
He circled the cabin, reading the soundscape. One heartbeat. No second signature. No traps strong enough to trigger Alpha Sense warnings. But something else lingered—a faint metallic aura, a cousin to the anchor's hum, tucked behind the walls.
Ethan tapped the door with two fingers.
It cracked open immediately.
And the barrel of a shotgun pressed to his chest.
"Not a step," the man hissed.
Mid-40s maybe, cheeks hollow from sleeplessness, eyes too sharp. A tinker, yes—but also something else: not a sadist, not a killer. Desperate. Desperation had a scent. Ethan knew it.
"Put it down," Ethan said quietly. Not a threat. A suggestion weighted with calm.
"I know what you are." The man's voice trembled. "Wolf. Pack. Monster. Call the others—they'll tear me apart."
"No one's coming," Ethan answered. "And I'm not pack. I came for answers."
The man's grip tightened. His heartbeat fluttered like a trapped sparrow.
"You broke it, didn't you? The device. Months of work—ruined. And now they'll keep tearing the woods apart."
"The wolves?" Ethan asked.
"No—the men." The operator swallowed. "You think I built that thing to control the pack? I built it to stop people from taking them."
Ethan stilled.
That wasn't the explanation he expected.
"Explain."
The man lowered the gun a fraction. His jaw clenched, fighting something older than fear. "Two months ago, trappers arrived. Illegal. They don't care if wolves are human or not—shifted or otherwise. Furs, bones, glands—they sell everything. I tried reporting it, but the sheriff wouldn't believe a 'crazy hermit tinkerer.' So I made a signal. Something to jam the pack's shift cycle, throw them off the hunters' scent. Keep them in human form where they'd be safe."
"Instead," Ethan said, "you forced involuntary shifts."
The man stiffened. "I… I didn't calibrate it right. I tried to fix it, but the hunters closed in on the territory faster than I expected. I just—I just didn't want anyone dying this time."
Ethan absorbed that. Packs fractured under stress. Forced shifts disrupted hierarchy, increased aggression, made accidents likely. But the intent here…
Human. And misguided. But not malicious.
The Panel whispered a path.
---
PANEL — INTERVENTION OPTIONS
1. Pacify + Seize Device (Non-Lethal)
2. Tame (Consent Only) → Loyalty Bond (Light)
3. Assist to Modify Device → Ethical Stabilizer (High Reward/Risk)
---
The man's hands shook now, the shotgun sagging.
"You're not with them," he whispered. "You don't have that look."
"I'm here to stop the damage," Ethan said. "But also to avoid hurting anyone who didn't mean harm."
Silence stretched. The lantern flickered.
Finally, the man exhaled.
"If you can fix it… hell, if you can just stop them… I'll tell you everything."
Ethan nodded.
"Then put the gun down."
The shotgun clattered to the floorboards.
Ethan stepped inside, Shadow Cloak fading. The place was cluttered with wiring, copper coils, analog circuits—half genius, half chaos. On the table sat a more refined version of the anchor: slimmer, sleeker, humming softly. A prototype.
The man rubbed his temples. "I call it an arc-tuner. It's meant to bend lunar resonance—not hijack it. Wolves have been part of these woods longer than humans. I don't want to hurt them."
"And the hunters?" Ethan asked.
The man pulled a small notebook from his jacket and tossed it onto the table.
Inside were names. Dates. Locations. Proof.
"They're coming tomorrow," he whispered. "A big shipment. Forty traps. Silver-lined."
Ethan's expression hardened.
Alpha Sense flickered with cold geometry: future vectors tightening around the town, danger clustering like storm clouds.
"You were right to act," Ethan said. "But you acted alone. And that made things worse."
The man closed his eyes. "Then help me fix it."
Ethan opened the Panel.
He selected Option 3.
A soft pulse ran through the room.
The man flinched. "What was that?"
"A calibration protocol," Ethan said. "We'll build something that stabilizes shifts instead of forcing them."
The man stared at him—afraid, but hopeful.
"Thank you," he whispered.
Ethan shook his head. "Save that for after we stop the hunters."
He took the prototype arc-tuner in both hands.
Its resonance shivered.
He began to rebuild it.
---
PANEL — MISSION UPDATE
Operator Identified: Non-hostile
New Sub-Objective: Neutralize poacher group
Arc-Tuner Upgrade: In Progress
Potential Reward: Lunar Steadfast (Major Fragment)
Outside, wolves howled over the hills—no longer in pain, but in warning.
Ethan tightened the last screw.
Tomorrow would be war.
And he was ready.