Gabriel
I knew he was watching us.
Isaac stood against the wall, arms crossed, his gaze calm but alert. We warmed up, preparing ourselves.
He said nothing.
No praise. No criticism.
That wasn't unusual.
What was unusual was the look in his eyes.
Today was different.
Raphael
"Why is he smiling like that?" I muttered.
Gabriel stretched his arms, never taking his eyes off Isaac. "No idea. And honestly? I don't want to know."
Michael rolled his shoulders. "I hate it when he doesn't say anything."
Then, finally, Isaac stepped forward.
"Today, you're not fighting me."
He let the words hang in the air.
"Today, you're fighting something else."
Michael
I knew immediately that this wasn't going to be a normal test.
Isaac led us out of the warehouse, through an overgrown lot that must have once been a farm. Crumbling huts, half-collapsed fences—a place forgotten by the world.
"What's here?" Gabriel asked.
Isaac stopped in front of an old wooden gate. "Something you need to defeat."
He pushed the gate open.
Then we heard the growling.
Gabriel
Three shadows moved through the tall grass.
Glowing eyes. Bared fangs.
Wolves.
No.
Mutated wolves.
They were bigger than normal animals, their muscles twitching beneath thick fur, their eyes pure black.
And they were hungry.
Raphael
"Mutated beasts?" I muttered. "Where the hell did you find these?"
Isaac grinned. "Would you believe me if I said they found me?"
Michael slowly drew his improvised blade. We didn't have our holy weapons.
"And what exactly are we supposed to do?" he asked calmly.
Isaac took a few steps back.
"Survive."
Michael
The first wolf lunged.
Gabriel reacted instinctively. He ducked, letting the beast sail over him, then slammed his shoulder into its ribs, sending it tumbling to the side.
Raphael ripped a metal pipe from the ground, swung it hard—smashing the second wolf right in the skull.
The creature yelped, staggered—but didn't fall.
I saw the third wolf charging at me.
And I knew:
This was nothing like fighting Isaac.
Gabriel
I stepped back, grabbed a loose wooden beam.
The wolf rushed toward me, its black eyes locked onto mine.
I waited, letting it come closer.
Then I rammed the beam straight into its mouth.
It howled, recoiled—but I knew it wouldn't be enough.
We had to defeat them.
Or they would tear us apart.
Raphael
I felt the claws scrape against my skin.
The pain was sharp, hot—but I forced it from my mind.
I tightened my grip on the metal pipe.
"You're not vampires," I muttered. "But you're still monsters."
The wolf leaped.
This time, I was ready.
Michael
I could hear Gabriel fighting. I could hear Raphael fighting.
But I couldn't focus on them.
My own opponent was fast. Smooth. Clever.
It circled me, waiting.
Waiting for me to make a mistake.
I clenched my fists.
"You're not the only one waiting."
Then I moved.
Isaac Crowe
I watched them.
I waited.
I wanted to see if they were just surviving—or if they were truly fighting.
Then it happened.
Michael didn't move like an inexperienced fighter anymore.
He let the wolf come, dodged at the last moment—then struck its ribs with precise force.
Not brute strength.
Precision.
He had learned.
Gabriel
I twisted, using the wolf's own weight against it, slamming it hard into the ground.
Raphael swung his metal pipe with all his strength, hitting his opponent in the skull—this time hard enough to knock it out.
Michael tricked his wolf into a trap, letting it crash into a rock before finishing it off with a single, well-placed strike.
Silence.
Then we looked at each other.
And we all knew:
We had done it.
Isaac Crowe
I stepped forward.
The wolves were down.
None of them had their weapons. None of them had given up.
I nodded.
"You survived."
Then I turned away.
"But you're not ready."
Raphael growled. "Not ready for what?"
I grinned.
"For what comes next."