For the next week, Tom lived a careful, methodical existence. His days blended together in a way that felt almost surreal—a continuous loop of mastering his powers and honing his instincts. It was the perfect training montage, even if it was nothing like the ones he'd seen in movies. No flashy music, no dramatic speeches. Just him, alone, pushing the boundaries of what he could do.
Each morning, as the sun began to rise, Tom shifted into a sleek, silent cat—usually a housecat or an alley cat. He could slip into any space, unnoticed, invisible in his small, nimble form. He prowled upscale villas, slipping past security with ease, making his way into kitchens and pantries. He would snatch food, leaving no trace of his presence, and then vanish into the early morning mist before anyone could be the wiser. He was a ghost.
By night, he repeated the process—moving like a shadow through the city, his feline form undetected by cameras, people, or any unwanted attention. He was meticulous, always aware of his surroundings, always slipping through cracks in the world where no one was watching. He wasn't just surviving; he was learning, absorbing, experimenting.
The rest of the day was dedicated to his training. The first problem he had to face was the mental block—the time it took him to shift. Though his transformations were instantaneous, it was the process of focusing on the right form that still confused him. Sometimes he'd imagine becoming a sleek panther, but instead, he'd find himself as a giant lion, or worse, some other random cat. His mind would wander, and before he knew it, his form would be completely different from what he had intended.
Frustrating. But not impossible to fix.
Tom took to meditation, sitting cross-legged in his temporary hideout, breathing deeply and clearing his mind. It took two days, but he finally found control. Slowly, he began to separate his mind from the chaos of his thoughts. Each day he focused more on calming his mind, honing the images of the forms he wanted to take, and directing his transformation with precision. Slowly, the mental fog began to lift. His shifting became smoother, more intentional. The random, unwanted forms were less frequent.
With the mental aspect in control, Tom began experimenting with the creatures he could become. His first tests were with more traditional cats—cheetahs, leopards, lions—but he wasn't limited by natural animals. His mind wandered to his childhood, to his favorite animated shows, and soon he was experimenting with the fantastical.
The Flerken—his least favorite. The alien cat from Captain Marvel with the terrifying ability to swallow vast amounts of things in its pocket dimension-like stomach. At first, Tom was fascinated. But when he shifted into the Flerken form and felt the tentacles emerging from his body, the sensation was enough to make him shiver with unease. He could feel them, strange and alien, stretching out in every direction, pulling in everything around him. The thought of those tentacles made his skin crawl, but he quickly learned to control them. He could store things—anything—in his stomach, but that didn't stop him from being unsettled by the sheer strangeness of the form.
Other forms came easier. He became familiar with the looks of cats from anime—ones he'd watched as a kid—and soon, he was morphing into them without effort. The sleek, deadly Leopard-human form of Lucci from One Piece, the muscled and powerful Tygra from The ThunderCat. His transformations were fluid, effortless, and each form gave him a new sense of power.
It wasn't just about the physical transformation. His senses had become heightened beyond belief. His agility was incredible, his speed like nothing he'd ever felt before. Every form brought with it new capabilities—some for stealth, some for raw power. But it was more than that. Each transformation taught him more about his limits and how to bend them.
By the time the seventh day rolled around, Tom was ready to finish his training montage.
That night, as he meditated atop the roof of his hideout, he sensed something that sent a ripple of tension through him. He wasn't alone anymore. He could feel the telltale signs—the faintest tremor in the air, the subtle shift in the atmosphere. His heightened senses picked up the low hum of helicopters in the distance. His heart pounded, but his mind remained clear. He knew they were closing in. They were getting closer, and this time, it wasn't just a handful of soldiers. It was a full-fledged operation.
From his perch high above, Tom watched as they entered the area—he could see them moving like ants, their military precision undeniable. He counted them—at least ten on the ground, armed to the teeth, along with two helicopters in the sky. They had come prepared, expecting a challenge.
Tom grinned.
This was it. They thought they were the hunters, but he knew better now. He was the predator, the one they should fear. It was time to strike back.
He surveyed the scene, his sharp eyes narrowing as he analyzed their movements. They were well-coordinated, but there was a mistake in their strategy. They had spread out, leaving openings for someone like him to take advantage of. His enhanced senses guided him—every movement, every shift in the environment, feeding his next step.
It was time to make his move.
Tom shifted into the leopard-human form (AN: Unless stated otherwise this form will be the beast human form of Rob Lucci from one piece), his body rippling with power. His muscles coiled, his claws sharpened, and he moved with deadly intent. His movements were silent, like a shadow, slipping through the gaps in the buildings as he stalked the soldiers. Each step brought him closer to his prey. The Six-Forms of the Navy giving him extreme mobility and stealth.
They were closing in on the building where he had been hiding. But Tom had other plans.
He crept silently through the shadows, slipping past them like a whisper. His senses were on overdrive, tracking their every move, waiting for the perfect moment. He could smell the metal of their weapons, the sweat on their skin, the faint acrid scent of fear in the air. They were confident, but not careful enough.
When they reached the entrance of the building, Tom was already there. With a burst of speed, Tom lunged, his panther form moving faster than they could react. His claws raked across the first soldier's neck before he could even raise his weapon. The soldier let out a muffled cry, his body crumpling to the ground as Tom darted past him.
The others reacted quickly, but they were outmatched. Tom was faster, stronger, and deadlier than they could have imagined. He ducked behind a corner, waiting for the next soldier to move closer. His muscles coiled, his senses tingling with the thrill of the hunt.
The next soldier took the bait, stepping into the narrow alleyway where Tom had positioned himself. Without hesitation, Tom pounced, sinking his claws into the soldier's shoulder and knocking him to the ground. A single swipe of his paw rendered the soldier dead.
The remaining soldiers were starting to panic. They knew something was wrong, but they couldn't pinpoint it. That's when the helicopter circled lower, its spotlight sweeping across the area. Tom's eyes narrowed. The chopper was a problem.
But first he had to solve the remaining soldiers. after the spotlight passed tom moved darting between enemies silently and slicing their necks, this was a team of normal soldiers and didn't have any enhanced individuals so he finished them within a minute.
As the last soldier crumpled to the ground, Tom paused for a moment, breathing heavily. The helicopters were still circling, but they hadn't noticed yet. Tom crouched low, his eyes scanning the area for the one he was after—the ringleader. The one who had been pulling the strings from the shadows.
His mind flashed to the man he suspected—someone with military connections and a disturbing obsession with mutant experimentation. He was most likely the mastermind behind this operation.
With a final, focused thought, Tom leapt into the air, his body shifting once more—this time into a sleek & small black cat with wings and glowing eyes, ready to find the one who had dared to make him the prey.
For till now, the hunter had become the hunted. But not for long.
The world would soon learn that Tom wasn't just a victim anymore.
He was THE HUNTER.