LOGINZeus. Briefing Room, War Office, Silvaton Wing. Friday, May 18th, five days later... Morning. "You must be joking, Battle Chief!" General Ted Camorra, one of the generals of Silvaton Wing, cries out in protest. I fix him with a hard look. "You planned a press conference where you intended to announce your decision to commence the construction of a stately hospital for those abominable creatures, and only now you tell us?" Silence instantly settles around the conference table. Every general stares at me with undisguised fury. But I do not cower beneath their condemning glares. Instead, I return each one with a stare just as hard. Rising from my seat at the head of the table, I walk around it with measured precision until I stop beside General Ted Camorra. "I have already made my decision." My voice remains controlled. Hard as steel. They all murmur among themselves. "He must be joking..." "He can't do this..." "Those creatures are beneath us..." Then one of t
Abe. My paws wrap around Cristoff's neck in a vice like grip as I slam him against the countertop. Anger surges through me in a fiery blaze. The only things I hear are my thudding pulse and Cristoff's thunderous heartbeat. A heart beating fast with the stink of guilt and fear oozing from him. "You traitor..." I snarl in Cristoff's face. He struggles against my hold. "Abe! Abe, stop!" Medura screams behind me. I flick her a brief glance just as Dickson yells, "Stay still, Medura!" But she ignores him. She struggles against his grip. I tear my eyes away from them. "You ungrateful wretch." I snarl in Cristoff's face again. He struggles again. Chokes. "Look how you're making your aunt suffer. Is this the gratitude Medura deserves after everything she did for you? After she gave you a home when your parents died?" I growl in his face. "I... didn't do nothing..." He tries. But I grip his neck tighter. "You did nothing?" I snarl coldly. "Then why do your thoughts say otherwise?"
Cristoff. Sunday, 13th May. Next day. Morning. I pace my room anxiously. My muscles are wound tight from all the anxiety that has surged through me since last night. Since I sneaked near the Council Building and heard everything they said. The adrenaline that spiked through me as I listened with my wolf hearing frequency. I still remember the feeling from last night. I wasn't supposed to know of the meeting. How could I? It was meant for warriors and not useless omegas like us. But when you're the nephew of the most trusted wolf, the Oracle, there's very little you don't get tipped off about. Then you handle the rest yourself. I recall two nights ago, when my aunt, Medura, walked into the house. She was drenched in sadness and grief as she sat down with her purchases from Willy's Wools. "How was the shopping, Aunt?" I had asked as I set dinner before her. Nothing special. Just cornbread and corned beef stew. I had baked the cornbread from some of the corn flour rations we wer
Abe Denvers. Werewolf and Vampire Settlement, Silvaton Wing. Saturday 12th May. Next day... Council Hall. Evening. The entire werewolf and vampire council sits in the hall. Tension stretches everyone thin as we're all gathered here. All House Alphas and their Warriors. All vampire clan heads and their Warriors. Every one of us thinking about the next step we can take to pull Athena out of that hell hole, Commander Zeus' prison. Because we know she's there. And we know she's alive. Her essence still beats through the Tree of Life. The tree that feeds our settlement with electricity. I still feel her life flowing through it because she's one of the White Witches whose powers sustain the tree. A secret known only to me, my wife, Athena, and Medura. We buried that truth for years because White Witches are hunted by the dark witches and slaughtered by humans whenever they're discovered. Every one they kill weakens our rebellion. The day Athena's essence disappears from the ro
Zeus. DC Wing. High Towers. Friday, 11th May, three days later… Evening. I walk through the dimly lit dungeon corridors of High Towers. Small light bulbs line the corridors of the place. A highly fortified building that has served as a jail for the Overlord’s most notorious offenders since my father’s era. High profile rebels. Mutinous officers. All of them have always ended up here, ever since I can remember. Most of them have lived out the rest of their lives in here. Others ended up executed for crimes against the Overlord. As I walk through the corridors, my entire body is hidden beneath a dark, long cloak, my face shielded as I pass the cells. The smell of decay and rot drifts through my nostrils with every step. The anguished cries of the damned fill the suffocating silence as I walk past each cell door. "Please... Mercy..." I hear an anguished, ragged voice plead as I pass one cell door, my feet skidding to a halt. At the same time, a hand jolts out through the bars of th
Athena. Silvaton Wing. Meanwhile. "A mole of mine...A member of your pack." Those words have haunted me for the past two days since the Commander said them. Even now, as I restlessly pace his room, they still gnaw at me. A mole working for the Commander is from our pack? So one of our own has been feeding him information? What has that werewolf been telling him? "Oh fuck." I sink heavily onto the bed. I cannot even go to my pack and find out who that mole is. If I could, I would have run out of here already and warned everyone. I would have told them everything. Together, we would have uncovered the traitor. Anger rattles inside me at my helplessness. My bones have grown stiff from being cooped up in this room for days. Unable to morph because of the magic barriers the Commander had a witch cast around his residential wing two days ago. The memory of that day crashes into me now. I was sitting down, reading a book titled 'The Laws of Earth,' recommended by the Commander, wh
Zeus Ironheart.Minutes later…Battle Chief of all the Regions. Ha.Some achievement.What a way to go, Zeus.Brandishing my title as though it somehow scrubs away the slur forever welded to my name.Bastard.Bastard brother to the Overlord, Norman Ironheart. My position in Norman’s new world does
Cristoff Izget. “You didn't know that the healing vials were not sent regularly to the hospital in our settlement, Commander, because that detail is a buried secret. A buried secret of a buried project. A project erased by one of your own. One of your Generals.” I reveal grimly. Disgust swirls th
Medura. Meanwhile. I sit before a small fire in the old infirmary that has served us for the past twenty four years. An infirmary that was finally built for us after some of our people went on protest in DC Wing. A protest that turned violent because some of the generals of the then Overlord, Zeu
Zeus. An hour later… The sounds of guns blasting through the grounds hit hard like flash grenades. The sentinels positioned at the walls continue raining a barrage of laser bullets at the rebels. Vampires and werewolves who have decided to breach the walls of the health station. “Shoot ever







