The world slowed.
Blood in the air. Sarah's last words burning in his head.
Jake's chest heaved, rage and grief twisting together until his veins felt like fire.
Scar's laughter echoed somewhere distant, Hunter's roar clashed against it, but Jake wasn't listening.
He felt it — a crack, deep inside. A shattering.
And then the surge.
A scream left his throat, but when Jake opened his eyes… the living room was gone.
He stood on that cliff again. The black forest below swayed as if alive, the sky above split in a sickly crimson glow. And hanging in the heavens, as vast as a god, was the wolf's head — it's eyes molten, its teeth like jagged peaks.
"Wake up, Jake…" the voice rumbled, shaking the ground beneath his feet.
He staggered forward, fists clenched. "Dad… Sarah—" His voice cracked, raw with grief. "I can't— I can't lose them!"
The colossal head leaned closer, its breath like thunder.
"Only you can protect them. Only you can protect her."
Jake's chest heaved, heart pounding, his fear clawing against his fury.
"Stop fighting me," the voice growled, sharper now, insistent. "Accept me."
The cliff shuddered, stones breaking away into the endless red void. Jake dropped to his knees, torn between rage, terror, and the pull of something vast and ancient pressing at his bones.
The ground split beneath his knees.
The cliff groaned like a dying beast, cracks racing across the stone as chunks of earth plummeted into the red abyss. Trees below warped and crumbled, the sky above convulsing with thunder that sounded like screams.
Jake's breath came in ragged bursts. He pressed his hands to his ears, but the quake was inside him, rattling his bones, tearing his heart apart.
"Stop—please!" he cried, voice breaking. "I can't—" His tears hit the trembling ground, vanishing in the cracks.
Every instinct screamed the same thing: acceptit. His pulse thundered, his skin felt aflame. He staggered upright, swaying against the chaos.
"Who are you?!" he screamed at the bleeding sky.
When he blinked, it wasn't the colossal head staring down anymore.
It was a wolf.
Standing right in front of him, as real and solid as the quaking earth. Its fur shimmered between shadow and flame, its eyes an endless Scarlet.
Jake stumbled back, heart stopping.
The wolf's voice rolled like a growl inside his skull.
"I am you, Jake. And you are me."
The world around him shuddered harder, mountains trembling, the sky ripping open with streaks of blood-red light. The wolf loomed larger in front of him, unshaken.
"You can deny me all you want," it said, low, steady. "But without me… you lose everything."
Jake trembled. The cliff shuddered; the red sky leaked sound into his bones. He pressed his palms to his temples like he could hold the noise together, but the world kept peeling back, and memories slammed through — sharp, painful, unstoppable.
A memory like a cut. Flashes: a younger Jake, a boy on a bed; hands ruffling his hair; a laugh that smelled like summer. The words landed with a thud, like someone had punched his chest.
"Okay, Jake… you feel like your life has no purpose?"
A softer laugh folded into the memory. "Then dedicate it to protecting those you love… That's the greatest purpose of all."
Catherine. Her smile lit the scarlet air — warm, alive. For a second he couldn't tell if the heat on his face came from the sky or her voice echoing through him. He heard her cadence, the way she tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, calling him stubborn with affection.
"Make sure to take good care of her for me, alright?"
David's voice scraped through — rough, raw, a command. The line carved deep. Take care of her. It threaded every memory of him — training, a scold, a proud grin.
Then the newest cut: Sarah's blood-warm hand clutching his, her teeth biting his pinky, her whisper ragged and fierce — "Give 'em hell."
The three voices tangled inside him until they weren't separate anymore. A chorus. Tender, fierce, unyielding. Not memories now — demands.
He wanted to curl away, deny the beast clawing up his spine. But the voices pressed like brands against his ribs, burning purpose where panic had lived.
Protect them. Take care of her. Give 'em hell.
The wolf stood waiting — no longer a threat, but a promise. Jake's chest ached, but the ache sharpened into resolve.
He inhaled. The cliff waited. The red sky waited. The voices coiled into one, terrible clarity.
He would not let them die.
Jake's legs trembled, but he forced himself upright. His fists clenched, knuckles white, blood mixing with sweat.
"I won't let them get away with it," he rasped. His eyes burned — no longer normal, but a sharp, blazing scarlet.
The wolf inclined its massive head, approval in its gaze. "Come with me… trust in me."
Then it turned, muscles rippling as it sprinted toward the cliff's edge. Without hesitation, it leapt — a streak of power diving into the endless red abyss.
Jake staggered, heart racing. Shock held him for a breath. Then he shook his head, grit twisting into his features.
"I'll trust in you…" he whispered. His jaw tightened, eyes fierce. "I'll trust in me."
He broke into a run and hurled himself off the cliff.
The Real World...
Jake's body arched, still on his knees, his scream ripping through the house. But it deepened, cracked, and broke — reshaped into something else entirely.
A roar.
Not human. Not wolf. Something Wilder. The kind of sound that made walls tremble and hearts freeze.
Hunter and Scar both faltered mid-fight, turning toward him.
Sarah stirred faintly in Jake's arms, blood still on her lips. Her eyes flickered open for a second, widening at the sound.
Scar's grin finally slipped.
The roar shook the house to its bones. Dust rained from the ceiling, the lights flickered, and the air itself seemed to thicken, pressing down on everything in the room.
Scar staggered, his grin gone. He tried to step forward, but his muscles locked, refusing him. His instincts screamed, every fiber of him shrieking danger — no, not danger… submission. His body trembled, fighting against itself, and for the first time, Scar felt something he didn't recognize. Fear.
Hunter froze where he stood, claws still half-raised. His chest heaved, his eyes wide. He knew what this was — even if his mind didn't want to believe it. His wolf howled inside him, not in rage, but in reverence. In surrender.
And then it happened.
Both men shuddered, bones cracking, skin tearing. Their wolves burst out — not by choice, not by will, but because their bodies could not remain human under the pressure of what was rising before them.
Scar's snarl turned strangled, broken, as his wolf form dropped low, ears flat, tail tucked. Hunter's massive frame followed suit, muscles twitching as his wolf instincts bowed to the presence filling the room.
Jake was still on his knees, but the air around him burned scarlet. His roar faded, yet the weight of it remained, pressing down like a storm that refused to pass.
Even half-conscious, Sarah's lips moved in a whisper, barely audible through the haze of blood:
"The…Apex."