April sat alone in her quarters, the dim light casting long shadows across the room. The events of the night replayed in her mind like a broken recording—the clatter of weapons, the smell of metal, the sharp sting of her own claws tearing through flesh.
She flexed her fingers, half-expecting the claws to extend again on their own.
"Is this still me?"
Her heartbeat echoed in her ears, amplified by her Echoing Effect, each thump a reminder that something inside her had changed irreversibly.
She had fought. She had won. But at what cost?
The thought gnawed at her. "Am I still human? Or just a weapon with a wolf's instincts?"
The warehouse was quiet. Too quiet. The normal hum of distant footsteps, the muffled chatter of her large pack, even the soft hum of machinery—gone.
Paranoia crept in like a slow, icy hand. What if Ragnörak is still here? Watching? Waiting?
She pressed herself against the wall, claws subtly extending, just in case. Every shift in the air, every vibration on the floor, told her someone—or something—was near.
A soft sound behind her made her spin. Empty hallway. Nothing. But the feeling lingered: she was being watched.
She glanced at the rest of the pack through the small glass window separating the training room from the hall. Jax, Dante, Saya, Kai, kuro & juno… all busy with their own exercises.
"Can i come to trust them?" She whispered to herself.
The doubt struck her like a fist. They're strong. They fight well. But do they see me as April… or just another Gear user? Another weapon to control?
Her hands shook. The claws flared briefly, as if sensing her fear. She retracted them quickly, breathing heavily.
Then a voice cut through the room—the leader, calm as ever.
"You've been quiet," he observed. "Thinking about last night?"
April swallowed, avoiding his gaze. "I… I don't know if I'm ready. Not for them. Not for this."
He stepped closer, voice softer. "You're stronger than you think. But that strength can scare even those closest to you. That's part of being a wolf."
She clenched her fists. "I'm not a wolf. I'm… I'm April. I can't be just a… a weapon."
"You can be both," the leader said. "But it's up to you how much of one or the other you let out."
Her mind raced. Doubt tangled with fear. What if I lose myself completely? What if Ragnörak finds me and… and they use me for things I can't control?
The echo of her heartbeat mingled with distant sounds of the city outside. Every footstep, every breath, every whisper reminded her of the fragile line she walked—between human and predator, between control and instinct.
Suddenly, the silence shifted. A faint, calculated vibration on the floor. Too precise to be random.
Her claws extended without thought. The hair on her arms rose.
Ragnörak? Or someone else?
The leader's voice was behind her again. "It's just training. For now."
April exhaled, but the tension didn't leave. The doubt remained, crawling under her skin like a second heartbeat. I need to control this Gear… before it controls me.
She flexed her fingers, feeling the latent power in her claws. The thought of Ragnörak made her stomach twist. They weren't just hunters—they were strategists. Experienced. Deadly.
And now, they knew she existed.
Her mind replayed the commander's words, the efficiency of his movements. "Stronger than expected… I'll need to inform the leader."
April pressed her back to the wall again, her breathing shallow, sensing the shadows in the corners of the room. The pack was nearby—but even they couldn't save her from what was coming.
She wasn't just fighting for survival anymore. She was fighting for herself.
And that fight had only just begun.