The night was silent, broken only by the soft whisper of the wind and the distant calls of birds. At a hospital on the outskirts of the city, Isadora gripped the edge of the bed, holding back her breath as pain tore through her. For nine months, she had carried a new hope for the White Wolves' lineage. Now, the moment had come to bring life into the world.
Scene: Hospital Room
Isadora lay on the bed, her hands clutching it tightly. Nurses and doctors moved swiftly around her, but with each contraction, a mix of fear and anticipation coursed through her veins.
Isadora (weakly, voice trembling):
"Lorenzo… come on… come out…"
A scream tore from her lips — the final, desperate strain of her body against the pain. And then, piercing the tension of the room, came the cry of a newborn.
Doctor:
"The baby is healthy… it's a boy!"
Isadora (smiling, exhaling deeply):
"Lorenzo… that will be your name."
As the tiny body was placed on her chest, the full moon's light poured into the room, bathing everything in a silver glow. And then they saw it — a strange mark on the baby's chest, like a wolf's footprint, etched into his skin with uncanny clarity.
Isadora (shocked, voice trembling):
"What… what is this? Why does it… glow?"
As Lorenzo's cries filled the room, the mark shimmered, pulsing as if alive. Its bluish-white light radiated a soft aura that danced along the walls, breathing with the rhythm of the newborn. The hairs on Isadora's arms rose as if touched by an unseen energy. The warmth of the Last Blood's power flowed through the room, a tangible magic that enveloped everyone present.
This mark was more than a symbol. It was a sign: Lorenzo had been born with the power of prophecy. The last blood of the White Wolf, destined to become a warrior and a guardian for all the tribes.
Scene: Enemy Camp – Another Place
In a dimly lit room, Salvador, the elderly seer, stood before the Black, Red, and Dark Grey Wolves. His eyes seemed to pierce time itself, seeing far beyond the present.
Salvador (loud, deliberate, full of certainty):
"The true warrior… the protector… has arrived."
Ignacio, the leader of all the Wolves — a creature of immense strength and power, the one who had slain Don Lucien — froze in disbelief.
Ignacio (voice tight with incredulity, exhaling sharply):
"Impossible… the White Wolves are gone! I killed Lucien… all of the Last Blood is gone!"
But before he could speak further, a strange tremor ran through his body — a power he could not explain.
Back at the hospital, elsewhere, the last White Blood had been born. Lorenzo. And the enemy did not yet know where he was, or even who he was — the final hope of the White Wolf tribe.
Narrator / Foreshadowing:
Under the full moon, as Lorenzo cried and the mark on his chest pulsed with light, a new chapter of war began. The Last Blood of the White Wolf had been born. In his tiny hands lay a power and a responsibility unlike any other: to restore balance and light to the world of wolves — White, Blue, Grey, and Golden alike.
As the light of the mark danced around the room, Isadora shivered, sensing a cold presence in the night. Somewhere in a shadowed corner of the city, a figure pressed against the hospital window. Its dim eyes were fixed on Lorenzo, unblinking.
Narrator's Note:
"The war is far from over… and many eyes are watching the Last Blood. Lorenzo's first battle began even
before he left the safety of his mother's womb…"