The chamber door imploded with a thunderous detonation, the reinforced steel buckling and tearing like flimsy aluminum foil. Ethan instinctively threw his arms up, a futile attempt to shield himself from the violent shrapnel storm. His heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the backdrop of the escalating chaos. Massive figures, their forms distorted and menacing in the pulsing red emergency lights of the corridor, surged into the room.They were giants, each one towering at least seven feet tall, their physiques corded with muscle beneath tactical gear that looked as though it had weathered a brutal war. But it wasn't their sheer size that sent a chill down Ethan's spine. It was the unnerving fluidity of their movements. They moved with a preternatural quiet, their heads snapping from side to side like predators scenting the air, their motions beneath the bulky armor disturbingly… feral. Every instinct in Ethan's body screamed danger.The largest of the figures, a behemoth even among his already imposing companions, stepped forward. His sharp, piercing blue eyes locked onto Ethan, radiating an intensity that made Ethan's breath catch in his throat. His face was rough and scarred, a testament to a life lived on the edge, and his dark hair was pulled back into a careless ponytail. He looked like a soldier who had embraced the anarchy, a survivor who had not only weathered the storm but thrived within it."You must be Ethan," he said, his voice gravelly but surprisingly steady, cutting through the din of the alarms and the echoing shouts. "Lenny sent us to get you out of here."Ethan blinked, his mind struggling to process the information overload. "Who the hell is Lenny?" he demanded, his voice trembling slightly as he gripped a jagged piece of broken metal, a pathetic excuse for a weapon against these titans.The man, who later introduced himself as Luther, arched a thick eyebrow, a hint of amusement flickering in his intense gaze. "Your uncle. Alpha Lenny. Didn't your mother ever tell you about him?""My… what?" Ethan's confusion quickly morphed into anger. "I don't have an uncle. And I never even knew my mother."Luther's expression softened slightly, though his tone remained sharp and urgent. "Serena was my cousin—your mother. Lenny is her older brother. We don't have time for a family reunion right now. This whole place is rigged to blow in six minutes."Beyond Luther and his team, the corridor was a scene of utter devastation. Sparks rained down from severed wires, dancing like malevolent fireflies in the dim light. The walls were streaked with dark, ominous stains that Ethan knew, with a sickening certainty, were blood. Distant gunfire punctuated the air, mingling with chilling, inhuman howls that raised the hairs on the back of his neck. Whatever had transpired here was far from over.Ethan's head swam, the information overload threatening to overwhelm him. "What about my dad? And Krazinsky? Where are they?"Luther's jaw tightened, his expression hardening. "We were too late. They're gone.""No," Ethan said flatly, the word a lead weight in his stomach. "You're lying.""I'm not," Luther's voice was grim, devoid of any comfort. "Come if you want proof, but we're running out of time."Before Ethan could formulate a coherent argument, Luther turned, his men instantly falling into a tight, disciplined formation around him. Their eyes, never still, constantly scanned their surroundings, their bodies coiled and ready to spring into action. Ethan, his mind reeling, trailed after them, his pulse pounding in his ears, desperately trying to block out the horrific carnage that surrounded him.The control room was almost unrecognizable. The thick observation glass had been shattered, spider-webbing across the floor. Consoles sparked and flickered with erratic static, their screens displaying gibberish. Amidst the wreckage, two crumpled bodies lay motionless, their forms draped in the grotesque stillness of death.Ethan's breath hitched in his throat. Michael, his father, slumped against the wall, his once vibrant shirt soaked crimson. His skin was ashen, an unhealthy pallor that spoke of the lifeblood draining from his body. Nearby, Dr. Krazinsky stared blankly at the ceiling, his eyes wide and unseeing, the light of life extinguished."No," Ethan whispered, his voice cracking with grief. He dropped to his knees beside his father, the cold, hard floor a stark contrast to the warmth that was rapidly fading from Michael's hand. "Dad!"Michael stirred weakly at the sound of his son's voice, his eyelids fluttering open like fragile butterflies. He managed a faint, heartbreaking smile despite the obvious agony etched into his features. "Ethan," he rasped, his voice barely a whisper.Ethan grasped his father's hand, his throat constricted with a mixture of fear and despair. "It's going to be okay," he lied, the words hollow even to his own ears. "We're getting out of here. Just hold on."Luther's voice cut through the fragile moment, sharp and insistent. "Ethan, we don't have time. We have to go, now."Michael's grip on Ethan's hand tightened, surprising him with its unexpected strength. "Listen to me," he said, his voice gaining a desperate clarity, as if he was fighting against the encroaching darkness. "The cryptids… Krazinsky's experiments. They didn't break out. They were… freed."Ethan frowned, confused by his father's cryptic words. "Freed? By who?"Michael's breathing became shallow and ragged. "Giants," he gasped. "Huge. Smart. They freed them. It's all connected. You're connected."Ethan's blood ran cold, a primal fear gripping his heart. "What are you talking about?"Michael's head lolled to the side, his breath coming in short, painful gasps. "Find the truth, son," he pleaded, his eyes losing their focus. "About your mother. About… your people."His grip on Ethan's hand slackened, the last vestiges of strength ebbing away. His eyes, once filled with love and concern, went still and lifeless."No!" Ethan cried, shaking his father gently, desperately trying to cling to the last thread of hope. Luther, his face etched with a mixture of sympathy and urgency, physically pulled Ethan back to his feet. "We have to move, now!" he repeated, his voice brooking no argument.Ethan barely registered the warning. His father's last words echoed in his mind, a haunting refrain. Find the truth.***Julian thrashed on his narrow bed, the sweat-soaked sheets clinging to his feverish body like a shroud. Agony, raw and unrelenting, tore through his chest, each wave of pain a searing brand. A strangled sound, the first he had uttered since his childhood, escaped his throat, a testament to the intensity of his suffering. His fingers clawed at the mattress, desperately trying to anchor himself, to find some semblance of stability in the tempest raging within him. But it was a futile effort. Nothing could alleviate the torment."Hold still, sugar," Meemaw said, her voice laced with concern as she pressed a cool, damp cloth to his forehead. Her voice was steady, an island of calm in the storm, but her eyes, deep and knowing, were tight with worry. "You're just makin' it worse on yourself."Julian's eyes flickered open, glassy and unfocused, his pupils dilated. His trembling hands, driven by an instinct beyond his conscious control, tried to form signs, to communicate the unbearable pain that consumed him. But the movements were jerky and uncoordinated, his body betraying him. He only managed the sign for Ethan's name—a modified 'E' sweeping across his heart—before another wave of agony doubled him over, silencing his attempts at communication.Meemaw exhaled sharply, the sound a mixture of exasperation and dread. "You broke the seal, boy," she said, her voice low and grave. "Opened the bond wide, and now it's floodin' you like a busted dam."Sally, her face etched with worry, hovered nearby, wringing her hands nervously. "Can't we give him somethin', Meemaw?" she pleaded. "A tonic? A charm? Xanax?"Meemaw shot her a withering look. "Ain't no tonic for this, child," she said, her voice firm. "His wolf's tryin' to claw its way into somethin' it don't understand yet. He needs trainin'—and time. Neither of which I can conjure up in this here kitchen."Julian gasped, his back arching as another wave of pain wracked his body, his muscles spasming uncontrollably. His fingers, still driven by an unseen force, twitched and jerked, struggling to form coherent signs. Finally, in a moment of clarity, he managed to sign a single word: Help. The sign was messy and incomplete, but the message was clear enough.Meemaw sighed, her face etched with concern. She placed a firm, reassuring hand on Julian's chest, her touch grounding him amidst the internal tempest. "Listen to me, Julian," she said, her voice low and steady, cutting through the haze of pain. "I know it hurts, child, more than you can probably imagine right now. But you ain't dyin'. He ain't either. Yet. This bond y'all share is raw, untamed. Like a wild horse, it's got the potential to be somethin' magnificent, somethin' powerful. But if you don't rein it in, if you don't learn to control it, it'll tear you both apart."Julian's vision swam, his body trembling uncontrollably. But somewhere, deep in the fog of pain and confusion, Ethan's presence pulsed like a distant heartbeat, a faint beacon calling to him across the miles. The connection was fragile, tenuous, but it was there.Hold on, he thought, the message forming in his mind, a silent plea carried on the fragile tendrils of the bond. Just hold on.***The explosion ripped through the night, a deafening roar that illuminated the sky with a momentary, blinding flash. The force of the blast sent a shockwave of heat and debris surging through the surrounding forest, rattling the trees like brittle twigs in a hurricane. Ethan didn't look back. He couldn't. He ran, Luther and his team flanking him, their boots pounding against the earth in a grim, rhythmic cadence that mirrored the frantic beating of his own heart."Keep moving!" Luther barked, his voice sharp and urgent. "Tree line's two hundred yards! Move!"Ethan's legs screamed in protest, his lungs burning with each ragged breath. But he pushed on, driven by a primal instinct to survive, fueled by the raw, burning embers of grief and rage that threatened to consume him. They burst through the dense trees and onto a narrow, winding dirt path. A matte-black Humvee, its engine rumbling low and menacingly like a caged beast, waited for them, its headlights cutting through the darkness. Luther's team fanned out, their movements precise and practiced, their eyes constantly scanning the perimeter, alert for any sign of pursuit.Ethan stumbled to a halt, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "I need to go back," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "To Silverbern—"Luther gripped his arm, his touch firm and unyielding. "It's too late," he said, his voice laced with a grim finality."No," Ethan insisted, shaking his head in denial, panic rising in his chest like a tidal wave. "My mom, my siblings—they're waiting for me. They—""They're gone," Luther interrupted, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. "The rogues hit Silverbern hard. Burned it to the ground. Intelligence suggests… no one made it out."The words struck Ethan like a physical blow, each syllable a hammer blow against his skull. His knees buckled beneath him, the world tilting precariously. But Luther held him upright, his grip preventing him from collapsing."No," Ethan whispered, the word a broken plea. "You're wrong. They can't be—""I'm sorry," Luther said, his voice softening slightly, but his gaze remained firm.The ground swayed beneath Ethan's feet. Tears, hot and unwelcome, blurred his vision, obscuring the already chaotic scene. He tried to yank his arm free from Luther's grasp, desperate to escape the crushing weight of reality, but Luther's grip held him fast.Then, as if on cue, the bond flared. A searing, unbearable pull in his chest, a jolt of pure, agonizing energy that ripped through his core. His gut twisted, his body rebelling against the sudden surge of power. He staggered, clutching his stomach, his breath catching in his throat. "Julian," he choked out, his voice barely audible. "Where is he?"A silver-haired woman, her face etched with lines of wisdom and concern, watched them from the open door of the Humvee. "He's bonding too hard," she mused, her voice low and thoughtful. "Too much, too fast. And his little mate ain't here to anchor him."Before Ethan could react, before he could even process the woman's words, she blew a shimmering, iridescent powder into his face.His limbs went heavy, his muscles instantly relaxing. His vision darkened, the edges of the world blurring and fading. The last thing he felt, before the darkness claimed him completely, was the distant, fading pulse of Julian's bond, slipping through his fingers like grains of sand.Julian… he thought, the name echoing in the silent chambers of his mind. I have to find him.