The clearing felt wrong.
Not dangerous—inevitable.
The last trace of crimson smoke curled upward like a dying whisper, dissolving into the breeze. Lyon stood rooted where he was, heartbeat steady but coiled, like a wolf poised to strike.
Across from him, the cloaked figure remained motionless, the hood swallowing the face in unnatural shadow.
"You shouldn't exist," Lyon said quietly.
A chuckle rolled out—dry, unbothered, like someone who had waited centuries for this moment.
"Oh, I exist for one purpose only," the figure replied. "To witness what becomes of you… and to decide whether your birth was a mistake."
The forest lights dimmed—literally dimmed—as if the trees themselves recoiled.
Lyon didn't move.
He studied.
The silhouette was wrong.
The breathing? Controlled.
The energy? Condensed but coiling like a spiraling serpent.
"Who sent you?" Lyon demanded.
The hood tilted. "A council older than Alpha law… older than the first wolf walked under the moon."
Lyon's jaw tightened. "The Grand Alpha Council."
"Not them," the figure whispered. "Older."
A shiver slid down Lyon's spine—not of fear, but of understanding.
There were forces he had felt in fragments: the voice in his rebirth, the mark burning on his chest, the instinct awakening inside him.
"You've been watching me," Lyon said.
"We watch everything," the figure answered. "Every reborn anomaly. Every forbidden heir. Every mistake the Moon tries to correct."
Lyon's fingers curled. "So I'm a mistake?"
"You," the figure said calmly, "are a threat. A possibility the world cannot survive if left unchecked."
Then the ground trembled.
Only once—but enough to scatter leaves and send crows fleeing into the sky.
The figure took a step forward.
The air warped.
"You will join us," he said softly. "Serve us. Bend your rebirth to our command."
"And if I refuse?"
The hooded head tilted.
"Then your destiny ends here."
---
The First Strike
The attack was so fast that an ordinary wolf would have seen nothing—not a blur, not a shadow.
But Lyon saw it.
He felt the shift in gravity, the ripple of mana, the distortion of breath. His instincts sharpened with terrifying precision.
Lyon moved.
His hand snapped up, catching a blade of pure shadow inches from his throat.
The figure paused.
"…Interesting."
Lyon shoved the blade aside and countered with an elbow strike that cracked the air. The figure dissolved into black mist, reforming behind him.
"You learn quickly."
"You underestimate me," Lyon growled.
"I do," the figure admitted, "only because your existence is impossible."
A Battle That Shouldn't Happen
The forest had never seen a fight like this.
Wolves fought with strength.
Alphas fought with dominance.
But Lyon fought with something else—something not of the wolf world.
His power surged like a star flaring to life. Each movement felt guided by instinct older than his rebirth, older than the mark itself.
The figure attacked first—dozens of shadow-blades slicing outward.
Lyon didn't dodge.
He stepped forward, rotating his body with unnatural grace, weaving through the blades as if he knew their path before they existed.
Predictive sense.
Reflex beyond instinct.
Something awakened.
"What ARE you?" the figure hissed.
Lyon's fist collided with the ground, sending a shockwave bursting outward. Trees cracked. The earth split. Shadow tendrils disintegrated under the force.
The figure glided back, cloak fluttering.
"This cannot be," he muttered. "You are stabilizing too fast."
Lyon raised his gaze.
"Try again."
---
The Warning Behind the Attack
They clashed again.
And again.
And again.
Shadow met raw, unformed celestial energy. Lyon's inner power erupted with each strike, shaping itself unconsciously. Every time he hit the cloaked figure, sparks of silver-blue light scattered like fragments of a broken constellation.
Finally, the figure retreated, panting for the first time.
"That is enough."
Lyon didn't move.
"You wanted to erase me," he said.
"No," the figure murmured. "I wanted to measure you."
The forest fell silent.
"And the result?" Lyon asked.
The figure lowered his hood just enough that a single eye gleamed—a slit pupil, glowing red, nothing human.
"You will rewrite the balance of everything we guard."
Lyon felt the words settle in his bones.
"You mean the wolves?"
"No."
The figure's voice trembled for the first time.
"The world."
A beat of silence thundered between them.
"Then why attack me?" Lyon asked.
The figure's expression hardened.
"To issue your sentence."
A scroll materialized in his hand, pulsing with dark sigils.
"By decree of the Primordial Order," he declared, "Lyon Kade is to be monitored, restricted, and executed if his power exceeds containment thresholds."
Lyon's eyes burned.
"You think you can chain me?"
"You are not the first reborn anomaly," the figure said. "But you are the most dangerous."
"I'm not your prisoner."
"No," the figure said softly. "You are the test."
The scroll ignited, burning into smoke.
And then—
The figure vanished completely.
No smoke.
No flash.
Just absence.
---
Aftermath of the Encounter
Lyon stood alone.
He exhaled slowly, the tension in his bones refusing to leave.
That fight had not been about killing him—it had been a message.
A warning.
A declaration of the enemies watching from the shadows.
He pressed a hand to his chest.
His mark pulsed—once, twice—like a heartbeat that wasn't his.
"What are you trying to tell me?" Lyon whispered.
The mark answered with warmth. Familiar. Ominous.
Lyon understood one thing:
He couldn't stay hidden anymore.
The world—no, worlds—knew he existed.
And they were preparing.
So would he.
---
A Decision Is Made
Footsteps approached behind him.
"Lyon?" a voice called—soft, hesitant.
Rhea stepped into the clearing. Her eyes widened as she took in the cracked earth and burned shadows.
"What happened here?"
Lyon didn't lie.
"Someone came for me."
"An assassin?" she whispered.
"Worse," he said. "A messenger."
Rhea swallowed. "Then what now?"
Lyon looked up.
The moon shone pale and unsettling, as if watching him with ancient curiosity.
"Now," he said quietly, "I prepare."
"For what?"
Lyon's eyes hardened.
"For the war that wants me gone."