Chapter 10: The Training Session
The old Hale house felt less like a home and more like a tomb, its charred remains a silent monument to a past tragedy. But in the ruin, Derek Hale was a figure of raw, coiled power. He paced the blackened floor, his movements fluid and precise, a predator in his natural habitat.
"Again," he snarled at Scott, who was struggling to maintain his balance, a look of profound frustration etched on his face. "Focus! You're letting your emotions cloud you. You're not thinking; you're reacting."
Scott growled, his eyes flashing a fierce, golden-yellow. "How am I supposed to 'focus' when you're acting like a human-shaped rage monster?"
Adam, standing off to the side, watched the training session with a detached, clinical eye. This was a classic Derek scene, a brutal lesson disguised as a training exercise. It was all about control. As Scott struggled, a new idea sparked in Adam's mind. He had mimicked the Alpha's senses. Now, he needed to learn control. And what better target to learn from than the brooding werewolf standing in front of him?
[SYSTEM: Activating Bio-Mimicry. Target: DEREK HALE. Ability: CONTROL.]
The System's response was a swift, efficient surge of information. Adam felt a subtle shift in his consciousness, a calming of his own frenetic thoughts. He could feel the pulse of the air, the thrum of the earth, the subtle shift in Derek's stance as he prepared to attack. He wasn't just observing; he was internalizing, learning.
Derek lunged, his claws extended, a low growl rumbling in his chest. Scott, flustered and unprepared, stumbled back, his transformation taking hold as his face shifted into a snarling, bestial mask. He swung a clawed hand wildly, the blow missing Derek by inches. Derek sidestepped, his movements economical, and delivered a sharp, non-lethal strike to Scott's chest, sending him sprawling.
"Get up," Derek said, his voice devoid of emotion. "You can't control your power unless you control yourself first."
Adam watched, his Mimicry still active. He was learning at a speed that was almost frightening, his body mapping the intricate muscle movements and psychological triggers that Derek used to remain in control. And then, the System provided a new, unexpected layer of data.
[SYSTEM: Emotion Scan: Derek Hale - 70% ANGER, 20% MELANCHOLY, 10% DEEP GUILT.]
The numbers were a shock, a sudden crack in the hardened facade that Derek presented to the world. Adam had expected to see anger, sure, but the melancholy and guilt were a revelation. He looked at Derek with new eyes. The brooding, almost cruel mentor wasn't just a force of nature; he was a haunted man. The anger was a protective shell, a way to keep the world at bay, to hide the deep-seated pain and sorrow he carried. The guilt was a quiet, suffocating presence, a ghost that walked with him, a constant, low-level thrum in his aura.
Scott picked himself up, his eyes now a mix of humiliation and pure fury. "I get it, okay?" he snapped. "I can't do this!"
"You can," Derek said, his voice softer now, almost a whisper. "You just have to learn how. I'll be here."
The training session ended soon after, a failure in Scott's eyes, but a revelation for Adam. Derek left without another word, a silent, solitary figure disappearing into the gloom of the Hale House. Adam, still processing the new information, looked at Scott.
"He's not what he seems," Adam said, a quiet observation.
"No kidding," Scott grumbled, rubbing his chest. "He's a psychopath."
"No," Adam said, shaking his head. "He's in pain. He's trying to help us, but he's also trying to run from something."
Scott looked at him, his brow furrowed in confusion. "How can you tell?"
Adam simply shrugged. He couldn't reveal the System's secret, not yet. But he had a new understanding of the world, and of the people in it. The supernatural creatures weren't just monsters and heroes; they were broken, complex beings, just like humans.
Meanwhile, a figure watched from the shadowed treeline across the street, a pair of night vision goggles trained on the two teenagers. Chris Argent, hunter of werewolves, a man with his own share of guilt, saw only a boy trying to control his new powers, and a second, unknown boy, standing in a way that was eerily familiar. The boy had watched the training session, his eyes a curious, piercing gaze that saw everything and revealed nothing. Chris Argent didn't know who the boy was, but he knew one thing with an unsettling certainty: the boy wasn't a werewolf, but he was something else. Something new. Something dangerous. He lowered his goggles, a single, grim thought passing through his mind. A new player had entered the game, and he had no idea what side he was on.
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