The Lower Industrial Sector smelled of rust and damp stone.
Tall structures loomed overhead, abandoned conveyor systems frozen in place like skeletal remains. Kael moved carefully, boots barely making a sound against the cracked pavement. His awareness stayed inward, controlled, layered.
He found the beast beneath a collapsed loading platform.
It had once been human.
That truth was written into the way its limbs bent incorrectly, the way its threads twisted inward rather than outward. A failed Beast Path adaptation—too much instinct, not enough structure.
The creature snarled when it sensed him, muscles coiling unnaturally.
Kael didn't rush.
He observed.
The beast lunged, overcommitting, claws slamming into empty air as Kael stepped aside. He felt the surge of power ripple through its threads—raw, uncontrolled, unsustainable.
Now.
Kael reached out—not to dominate, but to misalign.
He nudged the balance of forces supporting the creature's next movement, just enough. The beast stumbled, momentum turning against it. It crashed into a steel pillar with a sickening crack.
Kael ended it quickly.
Silence followed.
Kael exhaled slowly, feeling the faint ache behind his eyes. Not pain—fatigue held back by discipline.
First rule of hunting:
If it feels easy, you missed something.