My Werepanther System: Starting with Nine Lives

The other cats had fled at the sight of the beastial stray. An overwhelming omega. A spotted terror. A jungle beast drifting through the poor city in search of worthwhile prey. Or something more….

It seemed to have found what it was looking for in Rex's leg.

"YEEEOUCH!" He was up with a pained screech as the fangs bit through his dark green military cargo's and into his ankle.

The cat jumped back with a hiss at his sudden movement. As if Rex wasn't supposed to react to his ankle being chomped.

He wiped the sleep from his eyes and squinted into the early morning dark.

"Jag?"

"Meow."

"Go to hell, man."

"Meow."

"Why do you treat me like this? We're supposed to be on the same team!" Rex yawned and got to his feet. As he did, he held a hand out to silence the abnormally large cat, "Let me guess, meow."

"Meow."

"Dickhead."

Jag took off then. A streak of black and gold in the night.

Rex looked out at the city beyond. In the magazines he read from the dumpsters in the alleyways, he learned that California used to be a hub of culture, diversity and unconventional values that were both artistic, arguably problematic and at least refreshing.

It had been long since California was such things. Two hundred and fifty years to be precise. That was when the first Drift Dimension opened. Since then, man monopolized war, technological empowerment and the use of the cleanest energy source ever created. Mana. Even if it was also the most erratic at times.

Now most of California— hell, most of The EMRA (Empowered Military-Republic of America) was all the same for the most part.

Skyscrapers shielded by black metal shells and framed by Sigil-Sequences split up the homogenous city-bulk. Turrets and low-ranking Drift Soldiers manned the many outer floors.

Below, the more common railways, store fronts, apartments and houses blurred all into one monotone block over the earth.

Small forests occupied spaces every few miles. But most were swapped out for air filtration pods. Simple metal blocks containing supercharged plantlife to filter the air. It felt dystopian even if it was better. Rex wished he saw more. He wished he could've seen more color in general sometimes.

Like the sun. It rose beyond the buildings, throwing rays of purple and gold across both the sky and reflective rooftops.

It's warmth was lulling. He probably would've fallen asleep standing up if he wasn't starving.

Ans bleeding from his leg.

He got his day started with a climb. He flipped and rolled down the fire escape and ladders lining the side of the apartment building. Long before the working men and women inside would wake up and have a problem.

He hit the ground in an alley with a pair of pants, shirt and hoodie in hand.

"If I had money I'd leave some. But I don't. Anyway." He said as he looked away from the dried clothes on wires between the apartments.

In the alley he changed. His old uniform was no longer needed. He was onto bigger and better things.

"Damn…" The jeans were a bit too big for his five foot six frame. The black graphic t-shirt of a Drift-Soldier throwing a spear through an Orc was a bit too tight on his broad shoulders. Thankfully he had a zip up hoodie to hide in.

He kept his combat boots because who was about to enter Combat-School in tennis shoes?

And then he was off, slinging his backpack tight over his shoulders as he took off for the nearest train station.

He was agile. He had to be for his size— he had to be to survive the city. When he was younger it was to avoid gangs and angry store clerks who caught him stealing. More recently it was just to push himself. To stay ready. To get out of his own thoughts.

Music blasted from nearby homes as workers began to wake. It was like his own personal radio collage.

As cars began to flood the streets fueled on liquified Industrial-Mana, he took to the alleys and back roads. He flipped over dumpsters and swung on cables to clear rooftops until the smell of hot metal was impossible to avoid.

He landed in a thin alley in a roll. When he got back to his feet, he stepped out into busy streets full of students his age. All sporting fresh hair cuts, clean clothes and bags of supplies for the new challlenges that awaited them.

Haircuts.

It was crazy to see.

In Primary School everyone had to be bald or else they were out uniform and subject to disciplinary action. 

In Combat-School that wasn't the case…..

He saw colors and designs and….

"She's hot." Rex thought uncontrollably as a girl no older than him walked past. She was tall and dark with her hair in tight shining braids. Her glossed lips and painted eyes were almost blinding. She wore a tight pair of business pants, a blazer and sheathed sword at her hip. Jewels glimmered on her ears. But his eyes fell lower as she walked away.

He rarely saw women his age with hair. It was a good look.

So good it reminded him of his own looks.

"Shoot!" He took off for the nearest bathroom.

Once inside, he dug through his bag and cleaned himself up. He ended his poor man's shower with a rigorous teeth brushing. As he did, he watched himself in the mirror.

A mirror he had to stand on his tiptoes to see himself in.

He wasn't ugly by any means. He had handsome qualities, even. Smooth bronze skin, sharp jawline, a long nose and cool honey-brown eyes. Not to mention, his physique wasn't bad at all. Due to his size, he put on mass a lot easier than most. It left him with a functional level of bulk. Not like Victor by any means but he was far from a string bean.

His own hair remained low. A buzz. He liked it that way. Or maybe he didn't as he pulled his hoodie up and left the restroom.

He made it back to the train station. A line leading from the student Combat-School Admissions Bullet Train all the way down the stairs only grew in his absence.

A sigh of impatience rattled through him as he entered the line.

It took an hour for the line to shrink. He didn't relax any further as an officer of some sort stood before the train entrance requesting personal identification.

"Shit! I don't have that..."

Three people ahead. One of which was the tall dark-skinned girl with braids.

She approached the officer.

"Name and personal identification."

"Imani Price."

"Ohohoho… the Price Family finally spits out a combatant. Welcome to the fight, lady." The officer said.

"Happy to be here, sir." She didn't sound happy at all as she walked past and entered the bullet train.

Rex was up next.

"Name and personal identification." The officer said. He wore a black military suit with faint armored accents and no scaring. Ceremonial before combative. He worked administration for new entrants most likely. Not meant to fight but could if he needed. Plus he was packing some serious heat on his hip.

Rex passed his Primary School ID. 

The officer looked up at him from his tablet, "Wrong side of town, junior." 

"I'm enrolled in Combat-School. I just don't have a personal ID." 

"Why?" 

"I couldn't afford it." Rex mumbled. 

"Louder, boot!" 

"I couldn't afford one!" Someone behind him laughed. 

The officer laughed too. "So what? You think you'll be able to afford an Armament then? Or some kevlar?" 

"No." 

"So you want to enter Combat-School just like this? In a hoodie with no money or weapons." 

Rex nodded. "Yes." 

"Get out of my line. Next!" 

Rex didn't move.

The officer looked up from his tablet to find Rex still standing there.

He put a hand on the M-Pistol at his hip, "Move it, you little bastard." 

"No. I want my dinner." Rex's hands balled into fists. An inhuman rage welled within him. Coming as tears. Anger at his circumstances. Anger at how futile his defiance was. Anger at his shame of being homeless.

The officer looked Rex up and down once and smiled, "Give me your name." 

One final fight. One thing he learned quickly on the streets was you had to fight for what you wanted. You had to swing and claw and bite until something gave. "Kalico Rex." 

"Kalico Rex, you're under arr--" His tablet went off with a series of loud beeps.

The officer read over the notification in confusion. Then anger as he turned the tablet towards Rex. 

"You yanking my chain kid? If you have no money for an ID or simple Armament, how do you have an Inheritence Ability?"

Rex read over the screen. It was a layout of his data.

[Name: Kalico Rex]

[Student ID: 9999999]

[Rank: Recruit] 

[Age: 17]

[Height: 5'6]

[Weight: 170 LBS]

[Notables: Socially reserved, quiet, physically adept and favors close quarters offense

in cluttered areas where he can make use of his agility and climbing skill. Passed Knife and Wrestling Courses A, B and C with flying colors. Failed three team building exercises. Not very tall. Has close friendship with Victor Fauve of the Fauve Military-Guild. Could be a sign of a ruthlessly advantageous mind which could warrant great results in any Combat School. Current grade, C. Potential grade, B+] 

!: Student 99999 has Inheritence Ability awaiting pickup at Fort (REDACTED) in Barracks (REDACTED)

Rex looked back up at the officer, "I uhhh..... You didn't let me explain. I don't have any physical money and lost my ID on the way here." 

Another street lesson. Don't waste an opportunity. Not a single one.

"Then what was all that about dinne--" 

"May I get on the bus, I think I've taken up enough of your time..... Officer?" Rex managed.

The officer hesitated, looking back at the tablet for a moment before throwing his head to the side, "Get on and find a seat. If I hear you're causing a problem you'll wish you never came here." 

"Understood." Rex entered the bullet train full of stylish students and found Imani in the front seat watching him with eyes glowing crystal blue, twisting and flickering like techno-discs.

"Your student report failed to account for the fact that you lie. Then again maybe you can chalk that up to your..... ruthless mind."

Rex took the seat beside her— since no one else seemed interested in doing so. "Sure, whatever floats your boat. My names Rex by the way."

The train went silent.

"No, your name is Kalico."

"Oh, really? Had no idea."

"Did I say you could sit next to me?" Imani questioned.

"Did I ask?"

Imani turned in her seat as three more students filed in. She aimed her flickering blue eyes directly at him as he leaned back in his seat. "Your diagnostics are steady. Heart rate, body temperature, cortisol levels. All even. But based on your clothing's fit and the scent of cigarettes, they're stolen. You're not above me. You're so far beneath you don't even know who I am... hmmm."

Rex held her gaze, trying not to let his eyes fall to the growing cleavage exposure beneath her white button up.

"Do you ignore the consent of others often for your own benefit?" Imani asked.

Rex scoffed as he looked away from her again, only to find everyone staring even harder. "No, todays a day of firsts. Do you accuse everyone who sits next to you of rape?"

Imani failed to hide the curve in her lips as he pointed out the hilarity of her question, "No, todays a day of firsts."

"So, are you gonna tell me why everyone's looking at me like I ate a bomb, or do I have to figure that out after we depart?"

Imani shook her head. The sound of her braids brushing against her black blazer made Rex's scalp tingle. "No. Im heir to Price Industries. We fund all of the Combat-Schools in the EMRA. We also help in designing curriculum and are starting up a Genetics industry for affordable Mana-Grafting."

"Oh nice. Rich people." Rex replied.

"Yes. Rich people. They think I can squash you like a bug…. Or talk to dear old daddy and freeze all your bank accounts for the next four hundred years."

"Can you?" Rex asked.

"Yes." Imani replied.

"Cool."

"Why aren't you afraid?"

"I've lived without money before." Rex shrugged.

"Have you lived without your teeth?"

Rex spun around and found himself facing a tall and thin blonde haired boy with perfect white teeth and neck tattoos creeping up above the collar of his longcoat.

"Huh?"

"If you keep talking to Ms. Price that way,

I'm gonna assign myself as your new dentist."

"Is that right?"

Imani shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Yea that's right. I don't mind taking out some ghetto trash."

His buddies seated next to him laughed. They fake laughed.

So did four other people.

"What is this the seventies? Who still talks like this?" Rex turned around fully and slapped the students head into the window of the bullet train.

The commotion got everyone moving. The student on the left of the blonde boy surged upward. He was fat and bald. He grabbed Rex by the jacket. Rex brought his arms up and elbowed the joints of his arms, causing them to bend and give him the room to pull him partially over the seat and into a rear naked choke.

The other two stepped out into the aisle where they could move freely.

"Show him, Hunter."

The tattooed blonde boy's lip curled angrily. His tattoos began to move like shadows reborn.

The student in Rex's arms flailed, seemingly horrified of what was coming.

"Ok, Hunter that's enough. You'll get expelled." Imani stood between Hunter and Rex.

"I don't care. It's my families duty to protect yours."

"I'm not in need of protection." Imani said.

"Your honor is." Hunter raised his arm. The sleeve of his longcoat bubbled as something rose, snarling and white eyed. It sounded like a dog. Or a wolf.

"Hunter—"

The last student stepped on the train.

"Rex?"

Rex dropped the student in his arms, forgetting the boy was unconscious as he crumpled. "Hey, Victor. Combat-School sucks so far."

"Yea….. we could always go work in the mines." Victor thought as he fearlessly walked over to them.

"With your ability? Yea right." Rex shook up with Victor. His dreads were tied up neatly at the back of his head, revealing the fresh fade on the sides and ear rings dazzling at his lobes. He wore a black shirt and fitted pants. Calm, but he made it look intense.

"You two know eachother?"

Rex and Victor nodded as Hunter and his buddy watched in disbeleif.

"I'm Victor, it's nice to meet a friend of Rex's. He usually doesn't have any."

"We just met." Imani shook hands with Victor, "Imani Price."

Victor's eyebrows rose, "Woah… I didn't know you guys fought."

"We don't usually. I'm the first, and I'm already regretting it." She turned back to Hunter, glaring sharp enough to cut Diamond.

Hunter scowled and took his seat. His buddy ran over and pulled their bigger friend back over to them.

"Everyone take your seats and prepare for takeoff. Scheduled stop at Fort Amazonia in T minus one hour." A voice came over the intercom.

"Amazonia?!" The students all yelped in shock and terror.

Rex couldn't even process the place as he sat with Victor and Imani.

He was still stuck on how he got on the train.

"I have an Inheritence Ability. I wonder what it is…. Who gave it to me? My parents are dead."