Four young werewolves enter human territory for the first time, slinking forward nervously until they're under the cover of a nearby side street. Afternoon is waning, and the stink of human is thick in the air.
At this point the group splits, each investigating an area that strikes their individual fancy. Later, you'll meet farther into the zone at the large building to the east. Until then, you each have an hour to do as you please.
Using a map the four of you sketched out from memories of overheard adult conversations, you made your plans weeks ago. Your skin crawls with excitement to finally see places you've heard whispers of since you were a pup.
The human military have built this small section of the refuge up over the years—bleak unornamented buildings in row after row used for everything from food storage to scientific research, if the rumors hold true. The base's uniformity is not all-encompassing, however. Some buildings from before the Purge still stand tall in stark contrast to the new expansion of efficient yet ultimately soulless architecture, and you find yourself inexplicably pleased that the humans allowed the old growth to remain—beacons of life breaking up the monotony of military precision.
Which section of the complex did you plan on visiting?
The academic building. I might be able to snatch some forbidden knowledge out from under the humans' hands.
The weapons hangar. Even catching a glimpse of the humans' offensive technology would be a dream come true.
The medical building. I've heard rumors of experimental drugs being kept there that could do wonders for a wolf's regenerative abilities.
Why explore the known when I can discover new secrets? I plan to check out the buildings cloaked in mystery.
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You set off toward the medical building, reviewing layout plans for the military complex in your head as you creep through shadowed alleyways between buildings and, when necessary, rush through the open streets.
There is a surprising lack of activity for a base of this size, and you wonder just how many soldiers really run this place on a day-to-day basis. Maybe the humans have gotten bored taking care of the werewolves and simply left a skeleton crew here to make sure that the bare minimum is done? Whatever the reason, it's working to your advantage.
Soon the stark white edifice of the medical building looms large in front of you, and you duck into an open vehicle bay door. Pausing before the entryway, you take a moment to clear your mind and listen.
Yes, there's some human activity here after all; at least three people are clustered in a large reception room down the hall to your left. You sneak slowly in the opposite direction, searching for a door leading to the stairs.
You overheard Lonan, one of your teachers who lives near the Snarl, talking about the experimental drug. He mentioned that the procedure takes place on the third floor behind a large metal door. You're looking for a syringe of dark blue liquid that needs to be injected directly into the vein. Supposedly, the drug boosts an adult's regenerative abilities significantly.
Werewolf healing ability has always fascinated you, and for years you've desired a means to regenerate from bodily harm even more quickly than your supernatural gifts allow. There are numerous reasons, both practical and impractical, to covet such an ability, but your primary motivation is…
No one will be able to beat me in single combat when I can bounce back from wounds in seconds rather than minutes. I'll be unstoppable!
Scientific curiosity and a longer life to accomplish my myriad goals.
Being able to heal grievous injuries before my opponent's eyes would put an unholy fear into them.
Superior regenerative abilities could mean immunity to common sickness and disease!
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Combat and tests of will ultimately come down to one simple element: morale. The specters of fear and uncertainty wear down the will of even the most ironclad fighter, bringing them to their knees, defeated in mind rather than body.
A solid reputation as an invincible warrior, a wound healing as soon as it is inflicted…these are tools that can decide a wolf's victory before they ever set foot in the arena.
It doesn't take long to find a stairwell, and you bound up the steps several at a time. Faster and safer than being stuck in an elevator, you think to yourself as your arcing leap takes you all the way to the landing between floors.
You reach a door labeled with a large white 3 and hold your breath, listening for humans before you dare to enter the building. You count two individual voices engaged in polite conversation drifting down the hall.
You risk raising an eye to the thin vertical rectangle of glass above the door handle and you just catch the backs of two humans dressed in nursing scrubs turning into a side room and closing the door behind them.
You listen for another moment to be sure you'll have the hallway to yourself before opening the door and exiting the stairwell.
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Two hallways run parallel down the length of the third floor of the medical building, each flanked by doors to treatment rooms. The air has a strange, uncomfortable, tingly feeling to it and you raise your snout up, lupine nostrils sniffing reflexively as you attempt to pin down the origin of the offending aroma.
How can the humans stand working in here day in and day out with such an odor? Shaking your head and putting discomfort out of your mind for the moment, you concentrate on locating a room with a large metal door as described by Lonan after he experienced the effects of the drug.
Locating your goal doesn't take very long, and you're lucky enough that no doctors or nurses walk into the hallway as you search. There's only one room in the hall with a metal door, and it's conspicuously labeled with a small plaque: Werewolf Immunity Studies. You pull the small silver latch to open the door. You look back and forth down the hall to make certain you remain unobserved as you close the door behind you.
The room is frigid, and you shiver despite yourself, even with your thick coat of fur. It doesn't take long to locate the syringes, a line of which are kept unlabeled in a cold storage cabinet. The devices are well constructed and heavy-duty with a plastic sleeve covering the needle. A trick of the eye makes the fluid inside almost glow with a radiant blue hue.
It sends a shiver down your spine, whether from fear or excitement you're not entirely sure.
Inject the syringe. That's what I came here for, isn't it?
Keep the syringe but don't inject it yet. It should be safe in one of my belt pouches.
I smash every one of the syringes. They just don't look natural, and I don't trust the humans to meddle with werewolf physiology.
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