My Werepanther System: Starting with Nine Lives

"Fuck!"

Rex was a failure.

"It's only been a day. Not even a full twenty-four hours, man….." Rex thought, "And now I'm dead. The princess of a Drift-Soldier Financing Empire knows I'm a Werepanther. With those mechanical contacts she's probably putting a bounty on me right now. With however much money she can put up, I might just kill myself. Not in the mood to fist fight a werewolf god once a month." Rex thought in pained waves as he leaned against the rock he was slammed against.

Behind the repeated mechanical howls and screams of the sirens, he could hear the pond in the distance and rivers surrounding.

Further out, beast-tapirs bulldozed through the foiliage in a panic at the noise, tribal goblinoids and kobolds raged as the sound ruined their hunts.

Rex would've done the same if he had the energy. Only he wasn't hunting. Maybe that's why things went south. That was his first lesson. A god given lesson at that.

Be the apex predator he was.

And there he was.

Beaten, broken, scared. Considering how far he could sprint. How long he could live alone in the wilds and abandon his dream.

It was either that or kill her.

She was faster than usual. Or he passed out in the time between seeing her atop the cliff in the distance and seeing her now.

She stepped out from behind the bushes, walking down the same beat in path Remulus took him down to meet the other Totem Awakener's.

She smelled like cocoa butter and hair oils. It made his fur stand on end. Her braids weren't jeweled and flowed freely down her back. All she wore was a dark long night-gown that hugged the curve of her hips. Her dark skin felt like it was at home among the glowing jungle flowers. Like perfectly packed and smoothed dirt teeming with life. Her eyes were everywhere and nowhere. Her lips were parted but no words came. And before his mind could highlight any other aspects of her beauty, his eyes gravitated to the sword in her hand.

His fur stood on end for a different reason. Memories from a life that wasn't his own flooded a back-end portion of his mind.

He saw people. Women, men, children. He didn't recognize them, but he felt love for them. He felt betrayal as they gazed upon his form just as Imani did and raised their weapons. He felt a feral rage when he saw himself cut them down to preserve his own life. The life of the future holders.

"So we've all experienced this?" Rex thought. "Do you die everytime?" He whispered in a daze.

"You're releasing an influx of the stress hormone cortisol. Combined with your exhaustion and injuries is leaving you in a trance-like state. The best remedy given our circumstances is sleep." Imani unsheathed her blad—

Rex exploded from where he once laid on the stone and pounced on Imani. It happened before either of them could react. Rex moved on primal instinct. Imani failed to move on account of fear.

He could smell its sweet succulent aroma as it spiraled from her pores and flooded the fabrics of her nightgown.

[Predator's Frenzy: 70%….]

His transformation spread further as he crouched over her snarling. His canines grew larger. His drake saliva became more toxic, making his fangs glow. His muscles grew, wounds knitted themselves back together under new bristling fur.

"I-incredible…." Imani mumbled. Her eyes moved like struck pinballs.

Another wave of sirens hit.

Rex's sharpened ears twitched as he picked up the commanding shouts of Sargeants and students waking.

He stood up and backed away, prepared to run. It was all he could manage mentally as his primal mind stepped into overdrive. Fight or flight or feed.

"You won't escape." Imani rushed up to her feet.

Rex stayed with his back to her, gazing out into the dark-lit jungle.

"The jungle-monkey units will be sent out to do a perimeter scan. They'll have backup. Mech-Men and Sky-Screamers with thermal and bio-optics. You're fast, but you can't outrun modern technology, and you can't hide out here. This is a kill zone. You heal fast. But A-Missiles don't wound. They obliterate." Imani said in rushed ramblings. "Statistically— when extrapolated with the survival rate of other hunted species in similar scenarios, you have a two percent chance of successfully escaping. You don't have enough glycogen in your muscles. You're dehydrated and your adrenal glands look like balloons with no air."

"Up…" Rex's voice came out sounding like boots on gravel.

"Up what?"

"Shut-up." Rex said.

"Or you'll pounce me again? Just because I'm not trying to kill you doesn't mean I won't stand up for myself."

Rex turned around and stood up to his full height— which was about six inches taller than before.

Imani avoided his eyes, careful not to entice the predator while also highlighting weak points. All internal unfortunately. He was starving. The transformations and use of his powers burned through all of his calories. She was surprised he was still standing.

Then he laughed. Though it sounded more like a leonine chuff.

Slowly he shrunk. Fur seeped back into his skin and his muscles lost their grotesque intensity.

"Even now— you're still so…. uppity."

Imani's eyes widened, "I am not."

"Right— and I'm allergic to cats."

Imani twisted her juicy lips in irritation, "That is improbable considering you're obvious r—"

"Joke. It's a joke."

"Joking doesn't seem predictable dialogue considering your heightened stress state."

"Humans aren't predictable." Rex shrugged.

"You aren't human."

Rex stiffened, catching his own blunder. They didn't have much time.

"What's your angle?" Rex asked, "You're training to be a Drift-Soldier. You should be trying to kill me. I'm your enemy."

Imani blinked quickly twice, "I'm not training to be a Drift-Soldier."

"What…?"

"What?"

"You're in Combat-School. That's what we're all here for." Rex replied.

"No. Most people are here to be famous. To be gods— not heroes."

"Then what are you here for?" Rex asked.

"Exploration. Immersion of data. I graduated all the other schools under aliases in different nations. I want the truth."

"The truth? Hey— I'm way too tired for the cryptic shit. Talk or I'm about to get way less peaceful."

"No you're not. And I'm looking for the truth to the world. For concepts. Ideas. Falsities. You."

"Me?"

"Why don't we know about your kind? I have many questions. You're the first step to a groundbreaking discovery."

"A discovery of what?"

"Assimilation. Possible unity amongst the races—"

"Ooooook. I don't not need to hear civil rights fantasies between monsters and soldiers after I just got body slammed through a stone by a dog-man-god-thingy."

"I suppose rest is more important."

"Oh, do you suppose that?"

"I just said so."

"Talking to you is less stimulating than talking to a brick wall."

"I've been told worse." Imani's eyes gazed at the floor.

"So…. you're not going to… you know?"

"Tell?" Imani concluded, "No. Soldiers are action prone idiots. Scientists under military-capitalism care more for profit growth and surface level breakthrough than learned discovery. Ill do my own work. Plus, there's a saying about enemies of your enemies."

"And the wolf that's coming back?" Rex asked. "I'm no superhero but I'm not interested in seeing a bunch of teenagers get mauled."

"We live in a box full of state of the art weaponry powered by magical energy stones. We prepare. Plus, you running— even if you did escape, doesn't solve the problem."

"How so?"

"You remember how I said you had a two percent chance of survival if you ran?"

Rex nodded.

"Those others weren't much higher. Especially when you consider how the wolf got past all the security. This whole island is bugged. Every square inch down to the bedrock."

"What are you saying?" Rex felt a chill spin down his bruised spine.

"Whoever the wolf-shifter is, is probably living with us. In The Box."