Mark came downstairs to the sound of shouting, shattering glass, and what sounded like someone crashing into furniture.
Ethan had been out cold for nearly half a day, which was longer than usual, but he assumed his friend just needed the rest or the space. Since getting out, that wasn't uncommon, so he hadn't checked on him until the noise started.
Now, taking the steps two at a time, he reached the basement just in time to see Ethan shirtless, sweaty, and on the floor, wrestling what looked like a puppy.
"What is it this time?" Mark snapped. "And when did you bring a dog in-"
He stopped mid-sentence because Ethan was... laughing?
Not the dry, empty smirk Mark had grown used to, nor the forced chuckle he used when things got too quiet. This was genuine laughter: bright, unrestrained, and almost boyish.
For a moment, Mark just stood there.
Ethan and the Ulfen also froze.
The blue-eyed man then grabbed the beast by the scruff of its neck and lifted it into the air before getting up to his feet. Despite its strength, it was still just an infant Ulfen, so it wasn't much heavier than an ordinary puppy.
"Mark," Ethan said, grinning, "guess who's actually a Titled this time. You see this? This here is my summon."
The beast attempted to bare its teeth at Mark, but it came out as an awkward, gummy grin.
Mark just stared before sighing deeply.
"Where did you get this mutt from?" he asked. "And if you were a Titled, you think summoning a puppy's gonna help much?"
His gaze shifted to the broken bottles.
"And why'd you make a mess again? That's the premium stuff this time."
Ethan opened his mouth, then paused, trying to think of a way to prove he wasn't crazy.
"If that's not enough," he said, "then explain this tattoo on my-"
He stopped as he looked down to find bare skin without a tattoo. The only thing on his chest was a lingering scar from a not-so-pleasant encounter in prison, which Mark noticed.
'Guess the tattoo disappears while the summon's active,' he thought before laughing.
Mark rubbed his temples. "Ethan…"
"Don't worry, I'll get reassessed. And this time, I'll prove it."
Mark frowned. "Are you for real? What could've possibly changed overnight?!"
"A whole fucking lot," Ethan murmured as he headed back toward the bathroom, Wolfy padding happily after him.
'I'm sure he thinks I've lost it, hell, I would too,' he smiled. 'But it will all become clear, eventually. For now, I need to figure out what I've become.'
As such, he didn't bother explaining to Mark what he had experienced over sleep, nor did he have any plans to, at least for the time being. And honestly? Mark's confusion and concern were funny.
He closed the bathroom door and focused.
Ethan could already feel the drain on his MP and, without overthinking it, was able to undo the summoning. He watched as Wolfy dissolved into blue light, then, in the mirror, observed the energy flowing back into his chest as the tattoo reappeared in the same spot.
He didn't stop there, curious to see what he looked like with his other skill active.
'Beast Assimilation.'
Warmth immediately flooded his body; the tattoo heated, power spreading through his limbs as his posture subtly changed. His shoulders hunched, and his gaze sharpened.
His reflection looked… feral.
Closing his eyes, he focused on scent and sound alone, and just like that, he knew where Mark was. It was almost like a bat's echolocation, where he had an image in his mind of all solid matter in his surroundings. The smell helped, adding a dimension to it.
Now accustomed to this Minor Assimilation with Wolfy, the new stimuli did not overwhelm him. Instead, his brain organised them - from Mark's muttering to the smell of cleaning supplies and wine - it felt like he was viewing the world from a third-person perspective.
"Is Ethan actually losing it?" Mark murmured as he swept up glass. "Or… did he really become a Titled? If he did, wouldn't that make him a..."
He shook his head.
"There's no way. I just want him to adjust and be okay. And if that mutt makes him happy," he sighed. "I guess we can keep it."
Behind the bathroom door, Ethan smiled.
'Just you wait, buddy.'
He released Beast Assimilation, finished showering, and got dressed.
As he stepped out, a deep sense of Deja Vu lingered, but this time things were different.
This was a real turning point in his life...
-
Ethan showered quickly, like he feared that if he slowed down, the confidence buzzing in his chest might evaporate. He threw on the same plain black tracksuit from yesterday and checked his pockets before heading upstairs.
He had the usual: a little cash left, a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, and a broken phone he hardly used.
The bar was quiet this time of day and made yesterday feel like a bad rerun.
'I guess the other alcoholics aren't off work yet,' Ethan thought to himself as he locked eyes with his friend.
"So," Mark said from behind the counter, watching him carefully, "you're really going to get tested again?"
Ethan met his gaze and nodded, a calm, confident smile tugging at his lips.
Mark opened his mouth, but hesitated.
'I should probably warn him about-' before he could even finish the thought, the bell above the door jingled, and Ethan was already gone.
The large man stared at the door for a long moment before letting out a quiet laugh and shaking his head.
"If he actually has a Title," he muttered, "I guess he'll find out the hard way..."
-
The sun was high.
It was the same street, same cracked pavement, same city that had moved on without him, and yet...
Everything felt different.
As Ethan stepped out into the daylight, a strange sense of deja vu washed over him. Yesterday, he'd walked this same path filled with frustration and empty hope.
Today?
He'd already died once, at least in his mind, and returned with an even stronger sense of confidence.
The first thing he did was slide a cigarette between his lips and light it, inhaling deeply.
'I doubt this'll affect my stamina much,' he thought dryly. 'And I'm a Titled now. If I'm scared of cigarettes, I might as well give up.'
More than anything, they grounded him.
Before Monster Manor, the shithole prison that broke most people, Ethan hadn't touched anything that dulled his mind. Reckless or not, he'd always wanted control.
Then cigarettes became currency - cancer sticks that people fought over.
They tasted like shit, but somewhere along the way, he'd developed a taste for them.
Now that he was released, anything that numbed his thoughts while he was around Mark felt… necessary. Mark was the only person he trusted enough to watch his back while he drank himself unconscious.
Funny thing was, even in prison, he'd never touched alcohol. His first drink was in the Black Howl, and he recalled hating the taste and the burn in his throat, but gulping it down anyway.
Lost in thought, Ethan exhaled a cloud of smoke and flicked the half-finished cigarette aside as Mr Cho's store came into view.
He pushed the door open.
"What's up, old man?" he greeted casually, grabbing a bag of chips and a cold drink.
"H-Hello, Etan," Mr Cho replied, visibly stiff.
The fear from yesterday still lingered in the man's eyes, but to Ethan, that already felt like a distant memory.
He dropped more cash than needed on the counter, "Keep the change."
Walking back outside, he cracked open the soda, feeling oddly light.
'Life's really different now,' he thought. 'I'm a fucking Titled. One of the chosen. A literal superhuman.'
The thought made him grin.
"Today's gonna be a good day," he said aloud before...
"Ethan!"
The voice alone wiped the smile off his face.
'This fucker again.'
It felt like he was actually repeating the day prior, though things were not about to go as he expected...