My Werepanther System: Starting with Nine Lives

Rex had done what he once only dreamt of.

Not only did he complete his first day at Combat School— in Fort Amazonia of all places, he'd become an Inheritence Ability user. One with seemingly limitless potential and few natural enemies.

He'd found a weapon that fit him and a goal that matched what he truly desired.

Sure, he had a rocky start with the Drakes, recruit deaths, Hunter and the upperclassmen, but everything after was fairly smooth sailing.

After weapons class, they had a political relations seminar led by some honorary non-combat spokesperson, lunch— which Rex skipped to hunt in the jungles, computer science, vehicle engineering/piloting and strategy class.

It was the last that was most frustrating to Rex. Especially with his chosen partner.

Imani was a genius. And for the entirety of Strategy and Tactics class, they played board games. Which she was unbeatable at.

It didn't help that he knew she was spamming bio scans of him the entire time. She said psychology was an active weapon easily used by either side in any strategy based battle.

He said something not repeatable around children.

The day was long. Full of new experiences and chances for growth. In more ways than one.

"Everyone listen up! As of today, Monday September third, twenty-two seventy-four, you have thirty days to prepare for the monthly Drift-Run Event Series." Specialist Sunder yelled from the bottom floor of the male barracks.

"Drift-Run?" Rex sat up from his bed.

Tyson shivered across from him, "My parents used to tell me scary stories about that tournament. Their class called it the Recruit-Killer Event. I mean— I'm sure they were just trying to scare me, right?"

"Right." Rex lied as he remembered The jungle-monkeys try to kill him when he first arrived. After Koby did the same…. After Hunter did the same. In hindsight everything seemed like a recruit killer in Fort Amazonia. Even the plant-life.

Specialist Sunder continued, "This is a tournament led by upperclassmen to facilitate opportunities for growth and cross-class unity. Each winner per month gains a Drift Token. All I'll say for now is the Token's aren't your basic currency. Ask your upperclassmen for more answers. Continue studying to prepare and get some shut-eye."

"Yes, Specialist!"

"You gonna go for the least amount of tokens again this year, Sunder-blunder?" Someone asked.

"Respect the rank or face corrective displine." Specialist Sunder left before any other upperclassmen his age could reply.

"I heard Specialist Sunder is the least decorated Drift Trainee of his rank in The Box." Tyson said.

"Then why was he selected to lead us?" Rex asked.

"He's strong. Apparently he refuses to risk new recruits lives in the tournaments. It's gotten him gifts and favor with a lot of Inheritence Families. It also makes the others dislike him. They call him a sappy kiss-up— behind their families backs of course." Tyson explained.

"Is Corporal Green the same?" Rex asked.

"I'm not sure. I'm not a trainee gossip codex, dude!" Tyson snapped.

"Oh yea, I forgot. One more question." Rex said as he put his hands behind his head and laid down on his bottom bunk.

"What's up?"

"Does Imani have any sisters?"

Tyson grinned and side eyed him, "You won't quit will you?"

"I'm determined."

"Yea, you're in danger too. You can't have the hots for a modern day princess that also seems to think your some kind of monster because you had a glow up. It won't end well, man." Tyson explained.

"I'm very familiar with the unwell. This is different. I'm living."

"Even with the bullies?" Tyson asked as he climbed under his covers and his breaths became visible.

"I don't have bullies— I'm a grown ass man." Rex said before realizing Tyson wasn't looking at him anymore.

And the smell of frosty night winds became unavoidable.

Rex hopped out of bed. His pajama shirt burned off his body as purple flames covered his shoulders and hands. He was learning to use the fires to hide his transformation. Still, he needed work.

But more importantly, he needed to make a statement.

Koby Cobalt stood a few feet ahead. He still wore his leather coat and furred hood. His hair was still tipped with white dye like he dove into a snowbank. He was with a small entourage of sadists and elitist recruits. Among them was Hunter and his followers.

Most of the upstairs cleared at the sight of them.

All except for the few that came out of the showers behind Rex.

"Guys—"

"I don't care about your daddy, mophead." Koby interrupted, "I have seniority."

"You have an ego issue." Victor replied, somehow still looking imposing only in a bath towel.

"Which is perfect. I love stringing up the big ones. They struggle the longest." Syrus came out of the showers— still steaming and completely naked as he salivated with violent anticipation.

"Guys aren't we too old for this? You're like twenty-five actually, you've been too old for at least a decade." Rex said to Koby and the others.

"Age has nothing to do with it, runt."

"Said no one in their right mind ever." Rex rolled his eyes and raised his fists, "Alright. To hell with it."

The upperclassmen charg—

A howl interrupted the battle. It was loud. Stunningly loud. But also beautiful. Like a wild melody that couldnt be misinterpreted due to its otherworldly and primordial uniqueness.

It rose and fell and ebbed and flowed in a single harmonious and lulling riff.

Everyone fell.

Except Rex.

"Victor?" He turned and checked his friend only to find him snoring. "They're….. sleeping?"

Rex ran down the steps and found everyone else sleeping below as well.

Before he could check further beyond and confirm the lack of activity he was hearing, his System screen bloomed into existence in front of him.

DING!

[Totem Awakener approaching...]

Immediately after, something crashed outside of the barracks.

Heavy enough to make the lights flicker and dust rise.

Rex's pulse skipped a beat as he listened to the beast's breaths.

"Come out, kitty…. Or do I have to kill you nine times so someone more reasonable awakens your Totem?"

Rex transformed purely off adrenaline. His muscles expanded and his skin darkened as silky black fur bloomed along his back, arms and legs. His tattoos glowed purple— matching his slitted eyes.

The world became clearer.

The horrid musky scent of the beast did as well.

He nearly soiled himself as it barked.

"Come!"

"After you, asshole!" Rex spat, "I'm tired of everyone thinking they can just come put hands on me. Work for it."

"You see, that just won't be possible." The beast grabbed the metal door and crushed it like it was made of paper. Right before doing so, Rex got a rough visual of its hand size and almost threw up.

In the dark of the outside grounds, he could see the faint outline of the creature.

It was wider and taller than the door. And the door was over eight feet tall. Meaning the beast was as big as a speed-gundam and visibly wider.

"Fine. Have it your way." The beasts clawed hands curled around the door frames left and ride sides and began ripping it open even wider.

The barracks doorway crumbled and the walls cracked.

And in came another.

Another like him.

"Hello, kitty. You wear the markings of the Totem well. Better than others have. We have much to discuss, though. Shall we?"

"Uhh…. Yea, sure."