"Mark Williamson, you're making a grave mistake!"
Principal Anthony's voice rang through the room, trembling slightly, yet layered with firm resolve. The lines around his eyes tightened with worry, but he did not falter. "You have no idea what will happen if word of this gets out. The entire Beast Tamer Organization will hunt you down. And you know what they do to traitors… or worse, those who challenge the system. The Doctors won't spare you either."
Mark merely chuckled, brushing a hand through his hair with irritating confidence.
"If anyone finds out," he said, his sneer wide and arrogant. "But that's the thing, Principal—I've made sure they won't."
He leaned forward ever so slightly, as if confiding a secret.
"All the CCTV footage was deleted the moment I arrived. And any future recordings? They'll show only what I want them to. My narrative. So, you see... no one's coming after me. Not the Tamers. Not the Doctors. Not anyone." He gave a mocking bow. "But thank you for your concern."
With that, Mark snapped his fingers, and the floor beneath him seemed to quake. From thin air—or perhaps another dimension—a towering beast materialized beside him. It resembled a massive bull, its black hide gleaming like obsidian, eyes glowing a sinister red. The creature snorted, steam curling from its nostrils as it pawed at the floor.
In one fluid motion, Mark swung onto the beast's back, his posture commanding, gaze cold and unflinching. He scanned the room with the air of someone already victorious. His eyes landed on John.
There was no fear in John's face. None.
That fact made Mark pause.
Unsettled, he raised his hand toward his waiting guards.
"Finish them," he ordered.
The bodyguards, clad in black tactical gear, moved instantly. Their guns—sleek, black, lethal—were raised with practiced precision. Fingers curled around triggers, eyes locked on their targets.
Then a voice—calm, resolute—cut through the tension like a blade.
"Now."
It was John's voice. Soft, but commanding.
No one paid it heed at first. Not Mark. Not the guards.
But the response to that word came like a thunderclap.
Suddenly, the double doors at the end of the hall flew open with a crash. A thunderous, snarling roar erupted from beyond. The bodyguards turned, but it was too late.
A swarm of animals—furred, clawed, fanged—burst into the room like a tidal wave. Wolves, foxes, raccoons, even wild dogs of unknown breed—an army of beasts that obeyed no leash but John's will.
Chaos erupted.
The first wave of animals slammed into the guards with feral rage. One man was knocked off his feet by a charging boar. Another had his weapon ripped from his hands by a monkey that vanished before he could react. The air was thick with noise: snarls, screams, gunshots gone wild.
Before the stunned bodyguards could regroup, the sky seemed to darken.
A second wave descended—birds.
Not ordinary birds, but tiny raptors with wings like knives and beaks like spears. They swarmed the guards from above, striking at eyes, tearing at exposed skin with ruthless precision. Screams of pain and confusion filled the room as the bodyguards clutched at their bleeding faces, stumbling blindly in every direction.
One of them—faster or perhaps just luckier than the rest—managed to escape the chaos and stumbled toward the far end of the room. His face was cut, bleeding, but his grip on the gun remained steady.
He saw John.
He aimed.
Time slowed.
Doctor Luna and Doctor Thomas moved, but too late. The barrel aligned with John's chest.
Then—a blur of fur.
A cat, sleek and black, launched itself through the air with unnatural speed. Its claws flashed, tearing into the guard's face just as he pulled the trigger.
The gun fired.
The bullets missed.
They slammed into the floor, inches from John's feet.
The guard screamed, dropping the weapon as he collapsed, face bloodied, his vision gone.
Silence followed. Not the silence of peace, but of stunned awe. The floor was littered with writhing guards, scattered weapons, and blood—some of it human, some not.
John stepped forward, calm as ever.
His animals surrounded him, eyes sharp, bodies poised.
Mark, still atop his beast, didn't smile this time.
For the first time, he looked unsure.