The transition didn't happen with a roar of engines or the screech of tires. It happened in the silence between heartbeats.
One moment, Robin was crossing a grey, rain-slicked street in the heart of Seattle, the smell of roasted coffee and wet asphalt filling his lungs. He was thinking about his dead-end job, the stack of unread fantasy novels on his nightstand, and the sheer, exhausting mundanity of his twenty-six years.
The next moment, the world didn't just change; it inverted.
Robin gasped, and the air that entered his lungs was thick, sweet, and carried a heavy, metallic tang. He stumbled, his sneakers—designed for concrete—slipping on a surface that felt like wet velvet. He tumbled forward, his hands sinking into moss that glowed with a faint, bioluminescent teal.
He scrambled to his feet, his head spinning. "What... where?"
The sky above was a bruised, swirling violet, a canvas of deep purples and electric indigos. It was dominated by two celestial bodies: a massive, bloated orb of deep crimson that seemed to pulse with a slow, rhythmic light, and a smaller, pale silver sliver that sat high and cold in the zenith.
This wasn't Earth.
The forest around him was a nightmare of biological excess. The trees were gargantuan, their trunks twisted like ancient, petrified muscles, rising hundreds of feet into the air. Leaves the size of umbrellas moved rhythmically, as if the forest itself were breathing. The silence was absolute, but it wasn't the silence of peace—it was the silence of a predator holding its breath.
"Hello?" Robin's voice was a pathetic rasp in the vastness.
A sharp, white-hot lance of pain suddenly shot through his ribs. He looked down and realized his clothes—a simple windbreaker and jeans—were already shredded. He hadn't felt the impact, but blood was soaking through his shirt in three jagged lines.
Then, he heard it.
Crunch.
It was the sound of a heavy paw crushing a branch thick as a man's thigh. From the shadows of the "muscle-trees" emerged a creature that mocked every law of evolution Robin knew.
It was the size of a grizzly bear, but its proportions were those of a sleek, hungry wolf. It had six legs, each ending in obsidian claws that clicked against the stone. Its fur was a matted, oily black that seemed to absorb the dim light, and its eyes—six of them, arranged in a terrifying cluster—burned with a slow-burning ember glow.
Robin backed away, his heart hammering against his ribs so hard it felt like it might burst. "Stay back," he whispered, his hand fumbling for anything—a rock, a branch. He found a jagged piece of flint and gripped it until his knuckles turned white.
The beast didn't growl. It didn't need to. It simply lowered its front four shoulders and coiled.
In that moment of absolute terror, a sound echoed—not in the clearing, but inside Robin's skull. It was a high-pitched chime, followed by the sound of glass shattering.
[SYSTEM INITIALIZING... 1%... 15%... 100%]
[BOND SURVIVAL SYSTEM: ACTIVE]
[HOST STATUS: CRITICAL. SURVIVAL PROBABILITY: 0.02%]
"What?" Robin gasped, the translucent blue box floating in his vision momentarily distracting him from the apex predator.
[QUEST DETECTED: THE FIRST ENCOUNTER]
[OBJECTIVE: SURVIVE THE SABLE-CLAW PACK.]
[REWARD: SOUL INTEGRATION & FIRST BOND OPPORTUNITY.]
The beast lunged.
Robin threw himself to the left, the creature's mass narrowly missing him, but the wind of its passage was enough to knock him flat. He scrambled to his feet, but two more beasts emerged from the brush. They were hunting in a pack. They moved with a chilling, synchronized efficiency.
He swung the flint, a desperate, clumsy arc. The lead beast batted it out of his hand with a contemptuous flick of its paw, the force of the blow snapping Robin's wrist. He cried out, falling back against the cold, stone base of a tree.
The lead Sable-claw moved in for the kill, its jaws opening to reveal rows of needle-like teeth coated in a viscous, grey saliva. Robin closed his eyes, his mind screaming in a language he no longer understood.
I don't want to die here. Not like this.
Then, a voice—sharp as a diamond and deep as a mountain spring—echoed through the clearing.
"Enough, Shadow-scum! You hunt in the territory of the Moon!"
The air pressure in the clearing suddenly spiked. A silver streak, faster than Robin's eyes could track, intercepted the lead beast mid-air. There was a sound of meat hitting meat, followed by a sickening crack of bone.
Robin opened his eyes.
A woman stood between him and the pack. But she wasn't just a woman.
She stood nearly seven feet tall, her skin a sun-kissed bronze that glowed in the violet light. A mane of silver-white hair flowed down her back, held in place by leather cords and beads made of bone. Atop her head, large, triangular wolf ears twitched with predatory precision. Her legs were digitigrade, powerful and muscular, ending in clawed feet that gripped the mossy earth. A thick, silver-grey tail lashed behind her, its tip glowing with a faint, ethereal light.
She wore a chest-plate of cured monster hide and a divided skirt of dark fur. In her hand, she gripped a spear that pulsed with a rhythmic, blue mana.
She turned her head slightly. Her eyes were golden, with vertical pupils that vibrated with intense, lupine authority.
"Stay down, little star," she commanded. Her voice had a physical weight to it, a resonance that made the system in Robin's head chime wildly.
[TARGET DETECTED: LUNARA]
[SPECIES: HIGH LUNAWOLF (ALPHA BLOODLINE)]
[BOND POTENTIAL: EXTREME]
[BOND LEVEL: 0% (UNKNOWN STRANGER)]
The Sable-claws didn't retreat. Driven by hunger, they snarled and charged simultaneously from three sides.
Lunara didn't flinch. She took a single step forward, the earth cracking beneath her heel. With a fluid, terrifyingly powerful motion, she swept her spear in a wide arc. A wave of shimmering blue energy erupted from the blade, catching the beasts mid-stride.
The sound was like a thunderclap. The creatures were hurled backward, their bodies slamming into the trees with enough force to shatter wood. Two didn't get back up. The remaining four scrambled to their feet, their six legs churning as they retreated into the darkness, whimpering like beaten dogs.
Lunara stood in the center of the clearing, her spear resting on her shoulder. She didn't look like she had even broken a sweat. She turned fully to Robin, her golden gaze scanning him from head to toe.
"You are small," she said, her voice dropping to a low, melodic hum. "And you smell of a world that is not ours. No mana. No iron. Only... salt and fear."
Robin tried to speak, but the blood loss was catching up to him. The edges of his vision were curling into blackness. "Thank... you..."
Lunara stepped closer. Her footsteps were silent despite her size. She leaned over him, her shadow engulfing his small frame. The scent of her—wild cedar, cold rain, and something sharp and feminine—overwhelmed his senses.
She reached out with a hand that ended in sharp, black nails. She didn't strike him; instead, she hooked two fingers under his chin, forcing him to look into her vertical pupils.
"My father, the Chief, spoke of a rift in the weave," she murmured, more to herself than him. "A 'falling star' that would land in the cradle of the forest. I expected a weapon. I found... a pup."
[SYSTEM ALERT: BONDING CONDITION MET.]
[INITIATING SURVIVAL SYNC...]
Robin felt a strange, warm tingle at the base of his skull. The pain in his ribs seemed to dull, replaced by a heavy, comforting lethargy.
"You are coming with me," Lunara said. It wasn't an invitation. It was a decree.
She reached down and scooped him up with one arm. He felt the incredible, unyielding hardness of her muscles, the warmth of her bronze skin, and the soft, ticklish brush of her silver tail against his leg. To her, he weighed nothing.
"Sleep, little star," she whispered. "The Lunawolf Clan will decide if you are a gift or a curse. But for now, you are mine to guard."
Robin's head fell against her shoulder. The last thing he saw before the world disappeared was the massive crimson moon hanging over them, and the silver ears of his savior silhouetted against the violet sky.
Robin drifted in a sea of fever dreams.
He saw a world of gears and grey buildings being swallowed by a forest of silver trees. He saw a woman's silhouette—Lunara's—standing atop a mountain, howling at a moon that shattered into a thousand shards of light.
[INTEGRATION COMPLETE.]
[BOND SURVIVAL SYSTEM: LEVEL 1]
[CURRENT COMPANIONS: 1 (LOCKED)]
[SURVIVAL RATING: F (CRITICAL)]
The voices around him were deep, resonant, and carried the weight of a thousand years of tradition.
"He is too weak, Lunara. He will not survive the first frost."
"He survived the Sable-claws for five minutes with nothing but a stone, Father. That is more than some of our own pups can say."
"The shaman says his blood is strange. It does not carry the flow of the world."
"Then we will teach him to carry ours."
Robin's eyes snapped open.
The first thing he saw was the ceiling—a massive, vaulted canopy made of interlocking mammoth bones and thick, cured leathers. It was decorated with intricate carvings of wolves chasing stars.
The air was warm here, smelling of woodsmoke and roasted meat. He was lying on a bed of furs so thick and soft that he felt like he was floating.
He tried to sit up, and this time, the pain was gone. In its place was a dull tightness. He looked at his chest; his wounds had been bound with leaves that shimmered with a faint green light.
"You're awake."
He turned his head. Lunara was sitting by a large stone hearth in the center of the tent. She was sharpening her spear with a whetstone, the rhythm of the stone against the wood a steady, hypnotic shhh-shhh-shhh.
In the firelight, she looked even more imposing. The flickering flames played across the muscles of her arms and the sharp, noble lines of her face. Her ears twitched at the sound of his movement, and she turned her head, her golden eyes locking onto his.
"Where... where am I?" Robin asked, his voice sounding stronger than it had in the forest.
"The Heart of the Lunawolf," she replied. She stood up, her height forcing her to duck slightly under the bone rafters. She walked toward him, her tail swaying behind her with a slow, rhythmic grace.
She stopped at the edge of his bed, looking down at him with a mixture of curiosity and something that felt like ownership.
"You are in my personal yurt," she said. "The Council of Elders wanted to leave you in the forest to see if the spirits would claim you. I told them I had already claimed you."
[BOND INCREASE: LUNARA 1.5%]
[STATUS: UNDER PROTECTION]
Robin looked at the system window floating in his peripheral vision. This was real. The monster girl, the tribal tent, the glowing wounds—it was all real.
"Why?" he asked. "Why save me?"
Lunara leaned down, her face inches from his. He could see the fine, silver fur on her cheeks and the terrifying strength in her jaw.
"Because, little star," she whispered, a predatory smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. "The forest is changing. The shadows are growing longer. And my instinct tells me that you are the key to making sure my pack doesn't drown in the dark."
She straightened up and grabbed a bowl of steaming broth from the hearth. "Eat. Tomorrow, your trial begins. If you want to stay in the light of our fires, you must prove you are more than just a stray pup."
Robin took the bowl, his hands shaking slightly. As he looked at the tall, powerful woman standing over him, he realized his life in the city was gone forever. He was in a world of monsters, and his only hope for survival lay in the hands of the silver-haired warrior who looked at him like he was both a puzzle and a prize.
[CHAPTER 1 COMPLETE]
[NEXT QUEST: THE TRIAL OF THE DEN]
[BOND TARGET: LUNARA (ALPHA)]