Jamie sat in the leather chair of the Shark's private cyber-ops room, the glow of monitors reflecting across his sharp features. The hum of machines filled the air, mingling with the scent of hot coffee and cigarette smoke.
"Everything is in place." The voice came from a woman leaning casually against the desk beside him. She adjusted her glasses with one manicured finger, her blouse straining against her chest as she crossed her arms.
Her dark hair framed her face, and behind the lenses her eyes glinted with intelligence and amusement. Jamie smirked, letting his gaze linger. "You know, you almost make world-class hacking look sexy."
She rolled her eyes but smiled. "Almost?"
"Alright, fine," Jamie said, reaching up to brush a hand along her hip. "You make it dangerously sexy. Especially when you're telling me the plan is airtight."
Her lips curled into a knowing smirk. "Our men will have the girls back before the Tigers even realize we moved. Quiet, efficient—just the way you like it."
Jamie chuckled low, clearly pleased. He leaned back in his chair, tugging her close so she perched on the armrest. "That's my girl. Remind me to reward you properly when this is all over."
She gave him a playful shove. "Focus, Shark boy."
Jamie let his grin fade, eyes darkening. Inwardly, his thoughts drifted to his younger brother. Vali… Don't disappoint me. It's your turn to prove you're more than just our father's shadow.
Scene shifts A Bar Downtown :
Rain hammered down outside the run-down bar, but inside the air was thick with cigarette haze and laughter.
Mikhail—the Boar of the Blood Fang Trio—leaned back in his seat, a thick mug of vodka in hand. His bulk seemed too large for the chair, his tusk-like canines glinting when he laughed with the White Tiger goons crowded around him.
"Those Shark bastards?" he bellowed. "They're finished. Grigorovich's plan is flawless. Those little pups don't stand a chance!"
His men howled with him, pounding the table in drunken agreement.
Eventually, Mikhail pushed back his chair, cracking his thick neck. "Alright, boys. Don't drink the place dry without me. I'll be back."
The night swallowed him as he stepped outside. The rain drenched him instantly, sliding down his massive shoulders. Muttering curses, he fumbled for his keys.
Then—
Whhhhhhiiiiistle.
A low, mocking sound cut through the downpour. Mikhail froze, head tilting. Heavy boots splashed closer.
He turned.
An obsidian-coated fist collided with his face before he could react. The blow launched him backward, his body smashing through his own car and crumpling a fence behind it. Metal screeched, sparks flew.
Snarling, Mikhail pushed himself up, blood dripping from his nose. His blurry vision cleared enough to see two silhouettes step forward through the curtain of rain.
One tall and broad-shouldered, obsidian armor crawling across his skin like living stone—Riko.
The other leaner, eyes cold, mist curling off his form like a living shadow—Vali.
"You…" Mikhail growled, tusks bared.
Before he could finish, Vali dashed forward. His shin cracked against Mikhail's jaw with a sickening crack, sending the Boar staggering.
The fight erupted.
Mikhail roared, muscles expanding, veins bulging as his Boar transformation took hold. His skin bristled with coarse hair, and tusks tore free from his jaw, curving like blades. He barreled forward like a freight train.
Riko slammed his fists together, obsidian gauntlets forming and hardening into jagged spikes. He caught Mikhail's charge, digging his heels into the wet asphalt, the ground splintering beneath them.
"Vali!" Riko barked.
Dark mist surged from Vali's body, snaking around Mikhail's legs, his arms, his throat. The vapor thickened, seeping into his eyes, clouding his vision.
Mikhail bellowed, swinging wildly, but his claws met only illusions—afterimages conjured by Vali's mist. Then a sharp crack as obsidian spikes pierced his side, courtesy of Riko.
The Boar thrashed, tearing the shard out with a howl, his regeneration fighting to keep up. He charged Vali this time, claws swiping—only to stumble as the mist thickened beneath his feet, turning the asphalt into a slick, deceptive surface.
Vali slipped past his guard like a phantom and drove a knee into Mikhail's gut, followed by a spinning elbow across his jaw.
Riko finished the combo—slamming a massive obsidian hammer down on the back of the Boar's skull.
Mikhail collapsed, barely conscious, blood mixing with rainwater.
The two young men shared a look. No words. Just a silent agreement.
Back at the Yaizumei Estate :
The Yaizumei estate's basement was cold, concrete walls humming with the faint buzz of fluorescent lights.
Mikhail was chained to a steel chair, blood caking his face, one eye swollen shut. Across from him, Jamie leaned lazily against the table, Daiji standing nearby with crossed arms.
"You're going to tell us where the girls are," Jamie said calmly, his voice smooth as silk.
Mikhail spat blood onto the floor. "Fuck you."
Jamie sighed, almost disappointed. Then he drove his fist across Mikhail's face. Blood sprayed. Another strike. Then another. Soon Mikhail's face was pulp, his breaths ragged.
Daiji finally spoke. "Brother, he's stalling. He won't break."
The door creaked open. Jamie's girlfriend stepped inside, holding a tablet. "Actually, you don't need him to."
Everyone turned. She adjusted her glasses and flicked the screen, files glowing.
"Going through old archives on Father's systems… I found something interesting. Turns out he implanted trackers in all of you when you were kids. Safety measure."
Jamie's eyes narrowed. "Trackers…?"
She nodded, zooming in on two blinking red dots. "Kimara and Amy. Right here."
Silence fell. Then Jamie smiled—cold, predatory.
"Well then," he said, drawing a blade from the table. His eyes locked on Mikhail, whose battered head lolled weakly.
"No more use for you, pig."
In one swift motion, Jamie severed Mikhail's head. Blood sprayed across the floor, the body slumping in the chair.
Jamie held the head by the hair, staring at the lifeless eyes.
"Grigorovich will appreciate the delivery," he murmured, a dark grin stretching across his face. For a moment the room stood silent it was almost as if time had stopped then Jamie's voice cut through like a blade "Well guys, let's get cooking up a plan"
Scene Shifts to Kaz on the Frontlines :
The battlefield was a furnace.
The air cracked and warped with heat as the Sovereign-class beast, Kharzun the Volcanic Bear, roared loud enough to shake stone loose from the shattered ridges around them.
Every support unit tactic—every Radie Lance, containment grid, and bombardment—splashed uselessly against the creature's armored hide. Its burning pelt seemed to drink in the strikes, glowing hotter with each attempted wound.
"Keep the formation!" someone screamed, voice ragged. But the command barely held the line.
Kharzun surged forward, a tidal wave of molten rage. One massive paw, wreathed in cinders, swept through the nearest unit. A wall of men and women disintegrated into torn armor and ash.
The monster didn't slow—its molten jaws gaped, and a sphere of liquefied earth condensed in its throat before launching outward. It hit a squad mid-retreat, exploding in a blossom of magma that turned screams into silence.
The survivors faltered. Morale fractured.
And then Kaz stepped forward.
He was trembling, but not from fear. His black flames hissed in the suffocating heat, flickering and alive, as though hungry for what was in front of him.
"Kazunai, fall back!" a voice shouted.
But Kaz didn't listen. His feet carried him toward Kharzun like gravity itself demanded it.
The beast noticed. Its burning eyes locked on the lone human, ignoring the support squads as if they were gnats. With a rumble that quaked the ground, Kharzun lowered its head and charged straight at him.
Kaz set his stance, black fire wreathing his arms. He barely dodged the first swipe—barely—feeling the scorching wind peel across his skin. He countered, flames erupting in a claw slash of his own, black against burning red. The two collided, shockwaves ripping the battlefield apart.
The battle became a blur of survival.
Kharzun struck like a storm—each paw a landslide, each bite a furnace. Kaz retaliated with bursts of black fire, his movements wild but sharp, his strikes finding gaps only for the beast's molten hide to resist.
Kaz ducked under a paw sweep landing a solid uppercut on the beast who furiously slammed it's other paw down attempting to crush Kaz, he managed to raise both hands over his head just in time, the bears massive paws slamming against his gauntlets breaking pieces off of it and sending his heels sinking into the ground below.
Each impact rattled his bones. Each dodge shaved seconds off his stamina.
A claw finally caught him across the chest. Kaz was thrown, body skipping like a stone before grinding to a halt. Blood poured freely, sizzling on the molten earth. He coughed, tried to rise, but the bear was already looming, ready to crush him flat, Khazrun stomped it's massive paw into his abdomen .
Kaz screamed.
Not in fear or in pain—in rage.
Something inside him snapped. His vision blurred, then sharpened, then blurred again. The pain he'd been holding back became fuel, the whispers he had ignored now slithering into clarity.
From his forehead, a black horn of fire erupted, jagged and curling upward like a demonic crown. From his back, a single wing of flame tore free, unfurling in a blaze of shadowfire.
The sudden surge in power made Kharzun hesitate, just for a heartbeat.That was enough. Kaz twisted, ignoring the molten pressure of the beast's grip. His own jaws opened, flames leaking out between his teeth, and he bit down into Kharzun's burning flesh. The taste of scorched stone and brimstone filled his mouth as the bear roared in fury and pain, jerking back violently to fling him loose.
Kaz landed on all fours, soon clutching his head. Voices whispered—no, screamed—inside him. Promises of power, laughter dripping with madness.
Another horn burst from the opposite side of his head, mirroring the first. Another wing unfurled in a blaze of black fire, spreading wide.
His laughter came unbidden, manic and broken. Kazunai was gone. What stood in his place was something primal, feral—born of darkness and fire.
He lunged.
The battlefield turned into chaos again, but now it was Kharzun on the defensive. Kaz's strikes shredded burning flesh. His black fire clung to the beast, feeding on its volcanic heat rather than being smothered by it. His wings beat once, launching him upward, and his claws carved through Kharzun's hide in a storm of slashes and bursts of hellish flame.
For the first time, the Sovereign-class beast faltered.
But Kharzun was no ordinary monster.
Its fury redoubled. With a roar that split the sky, it stopped testing Kaz and unleashed everything—every ounce of its volcanic power. The ground ruptured, rivers of molten stone spilling forth. A paw like a burning avalanche slammed into Kaz mid-lunge.
The world shouted with the impact. Kaz's body cratered into the ground, flames scattering. He coughed blood, vision finally breaking apart. His wings flickered, his horns dimmed. And then—darkness.
He lay unconscious.
Kharzun loomed over him. The battlefield had gone still. Not one of the support squad dared to move.
Then, the strangest thing happened. The beast… stopped.
Its molten eyes softened, not with mercy, but with recognition. It lowered its massive head, sniffing at Kaz's battered form. For a long, terrible moment, the Sovereign bear simply breathed over him.
Then, one claw moved—deliberate, almost careful—and pressed against the right side of Kazunai's chest.
A glow sparked where claw met flesh. A rune, intricate and ancient, burned itself into his skin, etching deep with lines of molten light before fading to a faint mark.
Kharzun rumbled, a sound somewhere between a growl and a vow. Then it turned.
Without another attack, without a glance back, the Sovereign beast walked away—back into the molten wilds it had come from.
The survivors were silent. Only when the bear's massive form finally vanished into the smoke did they move—dragging the unconscious Kazunai from the scorched crater, whispering in confusion and dread about what they had just witnessed.
The mission was technically a success.
The beast was gone. But what it left behind etched fear deeper than any wound.