《The Life of a Wolf with a Human Mind》


 The First Day

    ((A Word of warning. This story is not something that¡¯s gonna move quickly, nor is it going to make a lot of sense. The journey of the wolf in this story is a long one but it¡¯s not one I will skip. Some chapters may be as short as a few paragraphs and others may be something that takes me all day and then some to write. If this is upsetting to you, then I can understand. For those willing to have patience¡­ Well, let¡¯s take a journey as a Wolf who was once a Human like you or me, adapts to this strange and interesting world.))


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    Panting, howling. The low sounds of growls and barks that sound so foreign yet¡­ Something is familiar, a faint pulling on my soul that tells me to listen and to understand. I struggle to focus my hearing yet it¡¯s difficult, so hard. My body feels as if its own weight bears down against me and my hands and feet struggling to move, to lift myself up.


    It¡¯s off though, everything is off, my eyes can¡¯t even open as much as I try but¡­ I don¡¯t need them, my nose, I can smell so much more. The ground beneath me is wet, the smell of home yet not home. Hope should be the smell of my cooking, it should be the scent of coffee but this smell is also home¡­ Of¡­ Mother?


    I struggle to stand up, but all I can do is fall, again and again. I feel nudging, a cold sensation against my bare skin and struggle to speak, to ask questions. But all I can do is whimper and yelp. Nothing is right, nothing is acting as it should. Where am I? Who am I? No, I know who I am! I¡¯m me, I struggle again and with determination move to stand on all fours. A low growling comes from me, and I can smell it¡­ The thing that touched me, it¡¯s alive¡­ It has a scent and the scent is¡­ Emotion, surprise?


    A new scent though captures my attention and I struggle to walk, even if I¡¯m on all fours. I still can do it, it feels natural¡­ This is how I should walk¡­ I probably look strange to whoever was surprised. But at least I can walk, following that new scent that tells me it will feed me. But other scents appear near it as well. Things that have a scent of Home, but they¡¯re in my way! I growl; the sound surprised me since it doesn¡¯t sound like it should. But I need the feed me scent, I move over them. Even if I have to crawl over those I do, managing to push some other thing down as I press against that scent. No, that¡¯s the wrong scent, it¡¯s one of¡­ Home¡­ Of Mother¡­ Lower.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    A little movement and I finally find it and bite down on it. I don¡¯t have teeth though, it¡¯s like they still haven¡¯t grown yet, still, I pull on the thing and it provides a warm gush into my mouth. Swallowing greedily I drink and drink, but I need more, I want more. I keep drinking, pulling, gushing, swallowing. Repeat and repeat, eventually, my hunger will be sated, I know it¡¯ll happen. I just have to drink enough!


    My concentration on drinking the warm liquid though is interrupted. Something bites me on the back of the neck, no teeth break anything. The action is so well practiced, warm as well, is it some kind of device? I wonder where I am once again. I can still hear the sounds of growls and yelps, barking and playful yips. It¡¯s like I¡¯m in the dog pound or something yet the animals aren¡¯t caged and so happy. The thing that bit me, that was carrying me, drops me down somewhere and I smell something¡­ Immediately I lower myself down and lay flat. Whatever this scent is, it carries power in it. It¡¯s like whatever is in front of me is the most dangerous thing¡­ But I don¡¯t feel danger from it, just the power¡­ The majesty.


    I can feel it¡¯s approach, hot breath wafting over me as it breathed and I wonder if it will kill me? Kill me? No, how could something kill me, I¡¯ve already died didn¡¯t I? It happened once before, what was to fear in it happening again. As I think that, I remember how heroes would stand up against their enemies even when they lost their powers in some comic issue.


    Forcefully, I move to sit up, having to sit back on my haunches, my front paws carry myself upward only barely and even blinded, I growl at the dangerous thing in front of me. If all I can do is a growl, then I Shall growl! I do my best to sound dangerous and the smell coming off the thing is confusion before mirth as my front paws start to shake and I fall forward. My mouth hitting the hard floor and I¡¯d whimper in pain.


    Gods damn it, I wish I knew what the hell was going on¡­ Why couldn¡¯t I open my eyes yet? Whatever, I¡¯m getting sleepy¡­ Maybe tomorrow some asshole will come to tell me what¡¯s going on. I start to fall asleep, uncaring of this dangerous thing, if it¡¯s going to eat me then what will be, will be. As I drift to sleep, I smell one final scent from the dangerous thing¡­ Father¡¯s affection.

 The Second Day

    When I wake, I¡¯m around others. My eyes still fail to open and yet I know that I can detect my environment better through scent than I could see. The world though is still just a haze, scents that are like emotions hang in the air around me and if I focus on any one scent then I can tell what emotion it is. It¡¯s a strange sensation to be able to tell emotions through scents, but it does lead me to a conclusion about what I am.


    Dogs have great noses, and my lack of any ability to stand on my own two legs leads me to think I¡¯m an animal of the four-legged variety. If I put these together, then I am a canine of some sort? It¡¯s a question I¡¯ll have to ask myself more on later. At the moment I¡¯m among things my size, I can feel them against my body while we all nest against one another for warmth. I myself am in the center, perhaps left there by the father presence I smelt before passing out.


    Perhaps that means the man who smelled like father¡­ A strange sensation to relate a smell to the one who would be Father. But maybe that has to do with my species? A question I can¡¯t even begin to understand as I don¡¯t even know my species. I¡¯m sure I¡¯m a canine but what kind? Am I even an Earth type of canine, am I on Earth? Releasing a growl of frustration, it disturbs one or two of those things around me so I silence myself and snuggle down further against them as I get comfortable.


    Let¡¯s see, the first thing I need is the strength to open my eyes. Or perhaps it¡¯s just about time? Well, I should seek out the smell of Mother to get her milk as I feel my hunger within my stomach. An almost constant hunger at that, I realize I was hungry from the moment I woke but it¡¯s only when focusing on it that it comes to the forefront of my thoughts. Shaking my tiny head, I¡¯d push that hunger back and down. It may be because of my species, the hunger comes from a lack of meat.


    I¡¯d open my mouth, rolling out my tongue to feel the tiny nubs of teeth that are still growing. If I am a canine, I don¡¯t have a very long life to live, but that¡¯s if I am an Earth-based canine species. For all I know I may be in a different world and the lives of canines are measured in the span of centuries rather than a couple of decades. All these thoughts, questions, I can¡¯t answer any of them and can only console myself in the belief that the answer will arrive with time. For now, I settle down to sleep, my mouth closing as I let myself drift into the dreams while waiting for the day to truly begin.


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    The damned bus was late, AGAIN. I had classes in an hour and the bus would take almost that long to get tot he college. My teeth ground against each other in frustration as I pulled out my phone, checking the time and found that the bus was almost five minutes late! Trying to distract myself, I¡¯d open up the next chapter on the web novel I was reading.


    It was a violent work, or at least the main character was violent. But I loved those literary-RPG novels and this one had a Main Character that I enjoyed. He constantly pushed forward with determination, even seeming to accept himself as the harbinger of cataclysm. Of course, those would just make him your average character to me, what REALLY got me interested was his cooking skills. I couldn¡¯t help but smile as he was impressing his girlfriend with a seemingly simple salad but one with a great dressing.


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    I think I was too into things because I didn¡¯t hear the honking was getting closer to me until it was too late. My head lifting to see the bus that had been late barreling forward. Others had dashed away, not realizing my own ignorance and their yells were at me. Seriously, a damned bu-


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    I snort awake, twitching and trying to jump yet my found legs make me stumble and I hit one of the other small things that are like me. The thing growls at me and instinctually I growl louder to make it quiet before catching myself. Cutting the growl short I worked my four legs into a stumble while sniffing the air. My eyelids seemed to lift a fraction of a millimeter, the light that came in was too much so I just closed them back. Releasing what I believe to be a sigh, I¡¯d follow the scent of Mother. The air was growing colder but eventually, I found her and with a little nosing I¡¯d feel a cold nose poke me in the side. I almost growled at the thing but the scent was of her. Instead of growling I¡¯d move closer to her, nudging my head to get at a nipple and suckled on it. While I did so I would move to press myself against her, relaxing against the warmth that mother gave me.


    I¡¯d feel myself drifting in and out of just suckling on the teat for sustenance and sleeping soundly against Mother¡¯s warm fur. It¡¯s strange to be so content, my mind usually filled with hundreds of thoughts but right now¡­ I really can only think of how nice Mother smells and how comfortable things are. I hear none of the sounds of my old life, and I haven¡¯t heard a single human speaking so I think I¡¯m out in the wild. Does any of it matter though? I can hear mother¡¯s breathing if I press the side of my head against her chest. It¡¯s a comforting sound, and the warmth lulls me into sleep finally as I stop suckling with a full belly. I still hunger, but I also feel full right now.


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    When next I wake, wherever I am is a little warmer so I¡¯m assuming it¡¯s later in the day. I¡¯m awoken because Mother woke. Her mouth grabbing the back of my neck as I¡¯m carried over and dropped into the pile of other small things like myself. I squirm a bit but form an idea. The light from before was too bright but what if¡­?


    I lower myself down, nestling myself until I can feel those other small things covering my face. I feel more energetic too, more strength even. So I focus on my eyes, the effort of pulling on the foreign muscles a strange sensation. I think that was my difficulty, I knew the muscles were there, I had used them frequently enough as a Human. But now, they were muscles completely unused until now but ones I had to use. If I couldn¡¯t open my eyes I might not be able to be of use to this pack of canines.


    As my eyes opened, I¡¯d notice the reddish-pink skin that was helping to shield my sight from anything too bright. Everything is blurry but I¡¯m patient and I wait. After a minute I¡¯m able to see more clearly and the light that is coming through between their bodies isn¡¯t as painful. So I lift my head, not too quickly and get a glimpse of what¡¯s around me. For the first time, I see¡­


    I¡¯m inside a cave, and it¡¯s definitely Wolves. They have strange fur, streaks of a turquoise streak down their spines and finally take up the full color of their tails. Many are resting, the scents from them telling me I should know them one day but for now, they are simply¡­ Family, pack, strangers, allies. A mixture of sensations and emotions. Shaking my head a bit, I continue to look.


    Finally, I see what the smell of Mother looks like. She doesn¡¯t look too different from others, but she lays instead of moving about. Along with a few other females that are laying about, perhaps waiting for their young to awaken. Despite the fact that she doesn¡¯t look too different, the smell though tells me how different she is.


    The other mothers don¡¯t have power in their scent, they aren¡¯t as strong and seem still weary and exhausted from birthing. But Mother is strong, despite having had to get up to bring me back, she¡¯s not just collapsing onto the floor to rest. She lays and she watches, she can see me looking and I smell surprise from her but I also smell pride. The smells make me feel pride as well, I can see when the others can¡¯t and my Mother is the strongest! I try to laugh, releasing a few yelps that quickly turn into a yawn before moving to lay back down.


    I don¡¯t take my eyes off Mother until I finally drift to sleep, but I know that Mother is proud of me, and is that really all a son hopes for? To feel their parents pride. Though, as I¡¯m starting to fade, I wonder¡­ Where is the smell that is Father? He wasn¡¯t in the cavern, perhaps he was out hunting. No matter, I¡¯ll worry about those thoughts later, I hope Father will feel pride as well.

 The Third Day

    I got a surprise when I woke up. It was darker, but I could still see somewhat when he came inside. I could tell by the scent that it was Father. One thing was that even on that very first day when I was drifting and about to fall asleep, I could smell that the scent of Father was powerful. What I didn¡¯t know was that Father was the biggest wolf in the pack¡­ group? I¡¯m pretty sure Father is the leader.


    It¡¯s hard to even grasp how big he is since I don¡¯t really know what a foot is with this view I have or an understanding of sizes. For all I know we could be giants! Well, that¡¯s silly, anyways. Even though I don¡¯t know Father¡¯s size, I know he¡¯s at least one and a half times bigger than the only other big Wolf which is Mother. Even the other males they only reach Mother¡¯s size, which is a curious thing to see. It does make me feel prideful, but at the same time, I wonder what that means? Father approached Mother and the two were a strange kaleidoscope of emotions and scents, watching the two I could only understand some of the emotions and scents but it was almost like Father was telling Mother a story. Yet there wasn¡¯t any speaking and I have no idea how you¡¯d even begin to do something like that.


    All the while Mother was her own selection of emotions and scents and some I did pick up¡­ Relief, happiness, love, and¡­ Well, hopefully, I won¡¯t have to witness that last emotion first hand. Despite the fact that I¡¯m Human and me, I think I¡¯d still gag seeing my own¡­ Eeeeugh, no more thinking of that!


    Anyways, my thoughts are turning toward the stripes they have. Father¡¯s stripe is bigger but it¡¯s normal for his large form. All the others have the stripe down their backs but I wonder if that has to do with the environment? It¡¯s a question to explore when I can leave the cave that is home. I know there are no species of Wolves with such a very distinct fur coloration on Earth. But the question is, what can that stripe provide? From what I understood from science classes, creatures evolved traits that were beneficial.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    The fur of these wolves is a murky brown and gray as if to mix well with a forest. Yet at the top of the Wolves is a stripe of a vibrant color that clashes terribly. There¡¯s no way I¡¯ll figure this out without seeing more of the world. So instead¡­ Let¡¯s go interrupt Mother and Father¡¯s ¡°chat!¡±


    I let out a yelp as I crawled my way over the others that made up our little nest. The walking was awkward but I was getting a hang of it more as I approached. Their own exchange of scents and emotions stopping as they noticed me wobbling my way toward them. I¡¯d first approach Mother, pressing myself against her, rubbing against her fur and enjoying the warmth before going to Father.


    His presence was a little unnerving but only for a moment. Because after I finally approached, he lowered his head and nuzzled against me. The cold of his nose causing me to shiver and bark out a laugh. It was so cold! And he kept at it too, rubbing his nose against the side of my body while I squirmed and laughed, rolling away from the big cold thing.


    It was right then and there I knew Father loved me as much as Mother. I could smell it of course, but I¡¯m still getting used to this whole scent thing and the pair were good people. Leaders I guess, but they weren¡¯t wrapped up in their whole leading the pack shin-dig. It was welcoming and I¡¯d bark and bounce as best I could. The pair watching me, and before long I saw father laying beside Mother, the pair watching me as I tried to show off how well I could walk by balancing on only my hind paws. I failed though, falling onto my butt and yelping a bit.


    Today was a good day, and I got to entertain my parents so by the time I finally got tired from running around them and rubbing against their warm fur, I was so wiped out that I almost passed out while running around. I got to drink Mother¡¯s milk a lot while I ran around them, and it didn¡¯t seem to affect her much so I just enjoyed it. Father was the one who carried me back over to the pile that had dispersed and then reformed after they had gotten enough drinks from their own mothers. But among them all, I was the only one who could open their eyes and move around so freely. I wonder if that makes me weird?

 Maybe a Few Weeks or More

    I¡¯d release a yawn as I laid outside the cave. My fur was coming in nicely, though it itched so much! The other ones my age were also running around just outside the cave. They played games, I think. Well, they run around a lot and release scents here and there. I¡¯ve been trying to figure out if it¡¯s a language or just something primal and¡­ I can¡¯t really understand it all myself.


    I think the reason is my mind. There are times when I let go of my mind and just allow myself to run on instinct. It¡¯s during those times that I get flashes of inspiration, that this scent means one thing and that one means another. Thankfully when they happen I can remember them later but it¡¯s not an easy thing to just regress to an instinctual mindset. Not the least of which is because I think my mind literally rebels against it. Whenever I try to calm myself, to let go and just follow my instincts, my mind attempts all the harder to assert itself.


    It¡¯s honestly been a struggle, whenever I¡¯m awake my mind is always active. Even more so than when I was an actual Human, losing myself to a book or game. It¡¯s as if my human mind doesn¡¯t want to relent, to let the Wolf inside take over. Frankly, I¡¯m annoyed to all hell by it and bored I can¡¯t just play with the others.


    Well, I say that but I don¡¯t think I could play their games anyways, a dreadfully boring tag is. Plus the spot I¡¯m laying in has an opening through the trees that let the sunlight just hit all the best spots. So I¡¯m nice and warm, plus I get to watch the others playing while Mother and the other females watch over us all. Mother isn¡¯t too far either, sitting in her own spot.


    Father and the rest aren¡¯t anywhere to be seen, not that it¡¯s too surprising. I don¡¯t know how far out they go to hunt but I do know it¡¯s got to be some distance since I saw how they move. The first time was exciting, hell, it¡¯s still exciting to watch. It also completely confirmed my suspicions that I wasn¡¯t in Kansas anymore¡­ Not that I¡¯d ever been to Kansas mind you, the only thing of interest there is laughing at them for thinking their side of Kansas City is better, the fools.


    Where was I? Rolling onto my belly I¡¯d remember with a smile as I stretched out my limbs, paws batting at the air playfully. My father! Haha, I saw him move and I¡¯m very sure it was magic that was used to move. Not sure what kind of magic, but it¡¯s either magic or some superpower. Not just my Father though, all the other wolves that were with him, the hunting party as I call them. They moved in a way that¡¯s just¡­


    I¡¯ll try to describe it, but it¡¯s hard to do so. Not because it¡¯s like they did some stupid skater 360 ollie kickflip shit. But because I could barely keep up with their movements. My father was the fastest since I didn¡¯t even blink and he went from basically two feet in front of me to standing against a tree.


    This wasn¡¯t a fallen tree either mind you, I mean he went from standing on the ground to standing horizontally on a tree before standing on another tree. I don¡¯t even know WHEN he moved, personally I think he just teleported, but he could have moved. Either way, all the hunting party Wolves moved like that. It¡¯s like they just hopped from tree to tree, using it as a springboard. They didn¡¯t dash against the ground, nor did they seem to be using force. It¡¯s also why I¡¯m unsure if it¡¯s magic or a superpower. The trees were basically untouched from their movements. I checked even! Hobbling toward the trees I had seen the Wolves step against, I didn¡¯t see any marks from claws or paws. It¡¯s like the Wolves were ninjas!


    Do you understand me? My father is the leader of a pack of ninja wolves! Or magic wolves.. Maybe magic ninja wolves? I don¡¯t really know, but I do know that if they can do it then I will. Hopefully, I¡¯ll find out it¡¯s actually magic, I¡¯d rather magic than superpower. If it¡¯s magic then maybe there¡¯s more to it than what I¡¯ve seen. I can learn it, study it. I doubt I¡¯ll be able to read unless there¡¯s English in this world. But¡­ Well, the Wolves here can communicate, so maybe there is a way?If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    These thoughts have been plaguing me ever since I saw Father move like he did, it¡¯s made me curious but I can¡¯t even voice my thoughts or ask questions! Compared to those pups playing, I¡¯m essentially mute. Even Mother has looked at me with seemingly worried at times. I can feel her gaze even now, making me roll back onto my belly so I can turn my head and return her look. I can¡¯t communicate like the others but at least Mother knows I¡¯m not stupid. I look at her and do my best to appear to smile and use what little scents I can send out, giving her what amounts to ¡°Love¡± that I can figure when it comes to scents and facial expressions.


    Honestly, that¡¯s the hardest point of communicating. This might be why when I¡¯ve been able to let go it¡¯s let me learn a ¡°word¡±. When I¡¯m thinking, I am perceiving as a Human still, which means the various actions of facial and body actions are harder to interpret. I see it as just¡­ Canine behavior, but it¡¯s not. At least as best I can figure it¡¯s not, there¡¯s some level of communication. Howling is used for distance communication, long notes that are more simplistic. They don¡¯t have speech as Humans did in my previous life. Instead, communication is about body language and scents. A tilt of one ear one direction a bit too far and you can be telling someone ¡°I want to eat your liver¡± instead of ¡°I want to be your lover¡±. At least that¡¯s the best approximation I can figure, to say it¡¯s a language would be going too far. But it is communication and almost seems something that¡¯s learned on an instinctual level.


    Turning away from mother, I¡¯d shake my head and huff out. All this thinking is just making things worse. It¡¯s all I have though, that and memories, my life as a Human. Just thinking about it puts me in a somber mood. So I¡¯d get up and walk away, I don¡¯t bother with the pups and just trail my way between the trees.


    This forested canopy of safety isn¡¯t too different from those of Earth. At least not at first glance, with the splashes of colorful foilage belying something alien. As for other species, besides the dead that Father and the others bring I haven¡¯t seen many. Though that¡¯s to be expected with freaking tree jumping Wolves! I¡¯d try and fail to suppress the shiver of excitement, now that I¡¯m free from Mother¡¯s watchful gaze. My Father can jump like he¡¯s some ninja from Naruto! Yelps of laughter would peel out, rolling around in the blades of grass and flower, yips of excitement escaping as I imagine myself pulling off such feats. The sheer joy of it, the excitement! Oh, I can¡¯t wait for it, my tail is actually wagging! I can feel my tail wag yet again!


    My rolling stops, turning my head as best I can to examine the wagging furred thing. It¡¯s still a weird sensation to have a tail. In some moments it¡¯s so foreign that I can never stop thinking about it and then in the next moment the entire sensation of it just not there. The tail still exists but I don¡¯t recognize it¡¯s existence as something separate. Still, at least remembering I have such a thing brought me out of my strange laughter.


    Shaking my head, then my body, I¡¯d try to work out any more of that laughter with a few more yelps before moving to a more private alcove. I¡¯m not too far from the cave, and I highly doubt Mother¡­ Slumping to the ground I¡¯d release a groan in annoyance. Of course, she¡¯d have heard that I bet she¡¯s laughing at it too! Well, hopefully not laughing at me and so much the funny sounds I made.


    Thinking! Stop thinking! I¡¯d take a deep breath, releasing it slowly as my eyes closed. I never meditated while a Human, why not start now? How do you even start this? Focus on nothing? Focus on some kind of target? Ugh, this is just thinking. And thinking, and thinking. All I¡¯m doing is thinking, contemplating, analyzing. A low growl released as I did my best to let paws bat against the top of my snout.


    I can hear the other young pups playing in the distance, their yips carrying out this way. I¡¯d actually like to play with them. I mean I¡¯m probably a couple of decades too old for games, but not as a Wolf, right? Cyclical thoughts again, I¡¯d just end up questioning that line of thought endlessly. No, I don¡¯t want to play with them, I want to understand them. That¡¯s all I want, to understand what may be the only sentient species I ever will communicate for the rest of my life, to let out every single drop of the essence of my being spew forth.


    I¡¯m a fucking MUTE! Everyone else around me can communicate, and I¡¯m stuck here¡­ Stuck like¡­ Like¡­!


    With head raised, I¡¯d howl. Everything, driven forth in the long note. My frustration, anger, sadness. Everything, in a howl that lasted for an eternity, fading finally into a wheeze. My lungs heaving in long pants from the lack of breathing. Swaying back and forth, the world turning hazy as the warm fur of Mother soon arrived before the world went black.

 And Now For Something Completely Different

    The Eden world of Tallis 4 is a planet much like the Human race¡¯s homeworld of Earth with lush, green forests, rolling plains, deserts that stretch along the equatorial zones of continents and massive ice caps along the North and South Poles of the world. In spite of the starkly different shape of the continents, the planet was sufficiently Earth-like to earn the designation of Eden World.. In truth, if there was anything that really set it apart from Earth it would be the people dwelling upon it.


    This isn¡¯t of course because the people aren¡¯t Human, far from it in fact. These Humans are the baseline evolutionary tract of Humans, virtually unchanged thanks to the planet¡¯s environment from those on the homeworld of their species. Rather what makes the planet different is the economy of the world and it¡¯s crime to law ratio. The world of Tallis 4 is almost completely controlled by the various gangs on the planet which range from small-time crooks banding together for money to branches from the larger galactic level gangs that populate the milky way.


    The planetary government of Tallis 4 as well does little to stop the criminal elements since the planet¡¯s purpose is to be used for colonizing the less friendly worlds of the Human controlled sectors of the galaxy. These such worlds are colonized and it¡¯s even by the greater inter-galactic Human government¡¯s desire for such worlds to be as heavily populated as possible for the colonization and expansion of the Human controlled territories in space, even if it means colonizing worlds that may be dangerous for normal Humans to survive on.


    Because of this, despite the rampant crime and virtual lawlessness of the world, the Planetary Governor of the world will, for the most part, ignore the gangs and violence so long as it doesn¡¯t escalate beyond a certain point. Of course, those gangs that do normally aren¡¯t one the woefully under-equipped police force is able to handle.


    To deal with these types, a bounty is placed upon the gangs. Making use of the inherent greed in people the government would allow hunters onto the world to attack the gangs, forcing them into their own strongholds and would then negotiate with the government to call off these attack dogs. It was a useful strategy and rather effective in the long run as it kept the smaller gangs controlled which had a higher risk of running rampant. The larger gangs meanwhile, at least those that were just branches of a greater whole, they wouldn¡¯t make trouble anyway since it was counterproductive to their business.


    Among the gangs that have had bounties put on their head, one, in particular, was of a rather stubborn nature. The Red Crows were a gang that had started small time selling the local flavor of drugs, building up their power base until the leader decided he could make a grab for one of the larger gangs. That in itself wouldn¡¯t have been a problem but his method for weakening said gang was to go after the civilian population that would be buying the product or offering protection money. That is where the Red Crows crossed the line, breaking one of the planet¡¯s guidelines for the gangs, very soon a bounty was put on the Red Crows who found themselves pounced upon by the sharks who sensed blood. The gang was pushed back, steadily until they were stuck in their own stronghold, a multi-floor office building reinforced with solid steel on the windows and walls, making it a veritable fortress against intrusion.


    Yet, despite being pushed until they were basically just in control of their stronghold, the leader didn¡¯t relent, didn¡¯t give up to negotiate with the government. He didn¡¯t want to play the planet¡¯s ballgame, he wanted to make his own rules and play by them. A choice, unfortunately, that would not be as successful as he¡¯d hope.


    The Red Crows stronghold was actually pretty barren, the closest building was about a block away though it was a bit taller than the office building the Red Crows had made their stronghold. Years passing had made the leader wizen up and cleared out the area around his building to make it easier to defend. But this one building that was a block away would have someone standing atop its roof.


    The Individual in question wore a solid armor that seemed to fluctuate and shift in coloration, mimicking the space around it of drab concrete and open air. If a person were to look up from below they¡¯d see essentially the sky above with the hints of the surface just behind depending on the angle. Likewise looking down from above they¡¯d see the concrete roof. It was a strange armor, actively changing its colors and texture to fit the surface it¡¯s mimicking yet doing so from multiple angles.


    Even that wasn¡¯t the most amazing feature of this suit that this person was wearing. Of course, most of the features and functionality of this powered armor were locked off to the individual within, not that he cared or even knew about this. His focus was completely on his target, the building a full block away, guards patrolling along the perimeter just outside with two guards on the roof. The weapons they carried were modified charger pistols with an artificially extended barrel and rifle stock. They didn¡¯t have the full force of a regular rifle but were mostly used for the distance they could achieve.


    ¡°Two guys on the roof, if I can take them out quickly I could keep things relatively quiet¡­ Yeah.¡± the suited figure would nod his head, covered completely by the armor which formed a tight helmet over his features, a smooth plate over his face. His view though was unobstructed, a visible hud before his eyes as he was able to look through the helmet as if he wasn¡¯t wearing it, the sights and sounds around him collected and projected which provided a perfect feedback system while also providing protection against the environment. Meanwhile, the hud that was presented gave him accurate information based on his own needs via his thoughts.


    All in all this suit would be a welcome and beloved addition to any soldier¡¯s armament, not something any normal bounty hunter would wear, especially to go after a relatively low-level bounty such as this. Yet the individual in question seemed oblivious to the absurdity of his own usage of this power armor. Instead, he was mumbling to himself about his battle strategy, plans of attacks to deal with the two rooftop foes.


    ¡°Then I¡¯ll do a spin kick to knock the weapon out of his grip before finishing with a quick flip over him, grabbing his neck and snapping it. It¡¯ll be perfect, yeah!¡± Excitement escaped his voice, yet didn¡¯t release into the area around him, the sounds from his body silenced by the suit he wore, leaving his words only for himself to hear and listen to. Not that it¡¯d discourage the young man who looked on the gang stronghold with an expectant glee.


    Glancing at his left wrist, he¡¯d double check his device was attached properly before doing a quick test of it. He¡¯d set the device with a single thought before launching the magnetic attachment piece. The small four-pronged device launched from the wrist-mounted armament, hitting the exit door. With a thought activation, the suited man would find himself flying straight toward the door, stopping only as he changed the attractor and attractee effects of the particles that were in his wrist device and the launched device, allowing himself to stop his travel that would have otherwise likely propelled him through the door.


    The device was called the Quantum Grappling Device, a rather costly device but useful for climbers as it didn¡¯t require a rope or a surface that can be hooked into. Two quantum level particles which existed to be twins and connected toward one another were used as the push and pull of the device, or in this case who pulls to whom. Depending on the setting one could be pulled toward the other device or the other way around which can help with grabbing things at a distance. For the young man in question, his apparent desire for the device was just that feature to have himself be pulled toward the ¡°hook¡± that¡¯s launched from the armament.


    Finding what he wanted to do would be successful. He¡¯d release the magnetic attachment, having the device pull itself toward him, re-attaching itself to the launch slot as he¡¯d approach the edge of the building, looking out toward the other building and it¡¯s two guards.


    Using the suit¡¯s HUD he¡¯d estimate the distance and the angle to launch, aiming quite carefully for almost a full minute as he¡¯d line up his shot. His aim was for the device to hit the back of one of the guards, giving him a bit of time to approach using the device before he could potentially remove the grappling device. In fact, up to the attachment¡¯s launch of the device, everything was quite smooth.


    With the calculations inputted it was a sure-fire that the device would land against the guy¡¯s back perfectly. So certain in fact that he¡¯d take some steps back and began a running jump as the device reached the apex of its height and began the descent toward his back. Unfortunately, he didn¡¯t plan for the guard turning toward his fellow guard because of a joke, coming up short of the intended mark. Undeterred, the armored fellow would activate the grappling as it hit the roof and he¡¯d be propelled through the air, the ark of his own jump carrying him straight toward the roof as the guard turned to look at what just landed nearby, confusion in his eyes.


    A shadow grew above the guard, noticing the darkening as he¡¯d turn and looked up, yet only saw the coming boot that seemed to appear out of nowhere. For the armored individual he¡¯d be cursing up a storm of ¡°shits¡± and ¡°fucks¡± as his boot smashed into the man¡¯s face, the weight of his armor combined with the momentum of his fall caving the man¡¯s skull in, brain matter splattering out along with bone bits and blood as a loud thud reverberated on the roof with his landing.


    Quickly recovering his grappling device he¡¯d address the armor, ¡°switch to defensive plating¡± as he charged forward, his stomps bursting through the dead man''s chest as he launched the grapple at the other guy, straight shot this time, yanking the guy toward him and the large fist that appeared as his armor stopped its camo phasing and shifted it¡¯s plating to key points for defense. The guard didn¡¯t even have a chance to fire a shot from his pistol before the fist slammed into his stomach. Wind knocked from his lungs while the armored guy lifted his leg, thrusting it out in a violent kick while yanking the guy with the grapple device once again, the opposite forces sending his foot through the man¡¯s body and out his back, killing him in a bloody explosion of blood and guts.


    His plan fucked, he¡¯d forgo stealth as he charged forward, the momentum of his charge ripping apart the body his foot was stuck in, heavy stomps against the roof as he approached the door. The grapple device reattaching in place as he¡¯d slam his shoulder into the door, missing the stairs and tumbling down them to the floor below, stopping only when he landed heavily against the wall, scrambling to get up and run further down the stairs to the next door down from the roof, charging through and ready to face against the gangsters and their bootleg weapons.


    The first thing he¡¯d see as he came through would be one of the gang members coming out of the bathroom by the door, still fixing his pants. The man¡¯s reaction was simple as he charged right into the man, knocking into him and slamming him right back into the bathroom onto the toilet. Following through the charge with a fist through the man¡¯s head, smashing his brain to small bits. The red sticky pieces of the gangster¡¯s head clinging to the armor as he pulled his hand back and came out of the bathroom.


    Following this he¡¯d approach the next door, meant to be a women¡¯s bathroom he¡¯d open it up to find a woman who was chained up, her body stripped bare, bearing marks and scars, a surprising sight but she wasn¡¯t a gang member obviously. She¡¯d look at the strange armored man, blood dripping from his fist and shook in terror. Yet before she could scream, the man turned and closed the door as he left the bathroom. His job wasn¡¯t to save anyone, the police could do that, his goal was simple and focused. Focusing on the task at hand, he¡¯d head to the next door, a bit further down the hall it¡¯d open up into a large office space, once filled with cubicles it was now something of a barracks.


    Gang members were scattered, some watching television, others playing one game or another. Though as the large armored man entered into the room they all froze, staring wide-eyed in surprise¡­ Right up until they saw the blood on him. For his part, he would charge right at one of them, grabbing them by the head to yank around as a shield as those with pistols on hand began to fire. The scattering sounds of charge pistols and their focused beams, the heated crackle of the air as the beams lit across space between them and their targets, hitting against the poor gangster¡¯s flesh, frying and cooking the man¡¯s insides. It was a painful experience, the man screaming in agony until a stray shot hit against his head and his own brain would fry within the confines of his skull. The heat had another effect, softening the skull and causing the grip to sink in, finally crushing the corpse¡¯s brain.


    Yet the fire didn¡¯t stop, multiple pistols firing away as the man in the armor dashed forward, shooting out the grappling device to drag yet another poor soul toward him, wanting the extra defense as he¡¯d charge into someone else, slamming his fist through the man¡¯s stomach to grip at his spine. With a hard yank, he¡¯d rip out a chunk of said spine, dropping him to the floor while his spine pieces were thrown heavily, smashing into another man¡¯s head to knock him unconscious. The beam rounds smashing against the armor, scattering against it as a readout would surprise the man. Realizing the damage being done was enough for even the basic defense of the armor, he¡¯d tell it as he had the grappling device detach, the poor man who was dragged to him having his head smashed apart by the fist.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°Switch off Defensive Plating, increase mass on fists and enhance mobility.¡± The armor would shift, thinning as the defensive plating was disabled and his hands thickened, gaining many dozens of lbs that would help his swings carry more weight. Along with his legs, the armor would actually tighten further and enhance reactivity, allowing him to use the suit to push himself to greater speeds. An effect he¡¯d put to quite prudent use as he crouched, grinning widely before dashing forward.


    He didn¡¯t care about the pistol blasts, slamming right into a man with his shoulder to knock him back before grabbing the poor fool by his thigh. Twisting on a heel, he¡¯d spin around, lifting and carrying the guy, slamming him right into two others that were close by, the heavy swing smashing the man and the other two into a mangled heap while he let go of the thigh. Following, he¡¯d slam his foot into the floor and jump toward another, hitting the ceiling though, he¡¯d fall with a heavy thud but moved to crawl up quickly and punch another gangster into the stomach, ripping a hole through his flesh.


    Grabbing this dead man, he¡¯d throw him hard into a man who tried to turn and run, dashing toward another to punch his head hard enough to turn the whole of the man¡¯s head into a bloody mist from the force of the blow. His follow through would be to shove that one into another, tangling him up and giving him time to come onto him, smashing both fists down onto his back, crushing his spine into powder.


    Finally, with the room nearly clear, he¡¯d make his way to the man who had a corpse thrown at him, smashing his foot down onto his head, crushing it beneath his heel. Remembering the man he knocked unconscious, he¡¯d make his way to him and lazily kicked the man¡¯s head off his shoulders, decapitating him morbidly. Looking around the room, Ten men were killed in just about fifteen seconds. The fight was quick, over almost before it even really began, looking at his hands, he¡¯d be surprised for a few seconds before gripping his hands into tight fists as he¡¯d leave the room, making his way out to continue hunting down them all.


    The next few rooms would be simple, easy to clear out. The noise from the first room he had entered alerting them but because there wasn¡¯t much beyond those fifteen seconds, many assumed some asshole had turned the noise up higher on a TV or game. Unfortunately, their assumption would prove incorrect when the armored man stormed into their rooms and using forceful might would slaughter through them. The screams that resulted alerted more even some coming out into the halls. Thanks to his speed though, he¡¯d deal with his threats quickly before they could get a shot off.


    One room after another, emptied of life, heads crushed and bones smashed, the armored man¡¯s armor was soaked in the blood of the gang members as he managed to clear out the topmost floor with relative ease. At least to a point, you see the gang leader lived on the topmost floor, his office/bedroom was one of the more fortified locations and as he had heard the sounds as well, rather than believing it could be just some asshole with some entertainment too loud. Instead, he correctly assumed it was someone coming after him, being a careful man he¡¯d bring his guards to come toward him while closing and locking the doors.


    By the time the armored hunter arrived, the entire floor would otherwise be cleared of anything living save for those few non-members he had found, captured women used as little more than objects. Their screams at the sight they had seen a testament to his brutality and carnage. Not that he cared much for the sought, his focus would instead be on the doors. A quick test finding the doors to be locked and made of good solid steel. However thick, who knows but it was enough to make the man in the Armor frown in annoyance as he¡¯d ask, ¡°Can the suit break through this without putting us at risk?¡±


    Silence reigned for a few seconds before a voice responded, computerized yet fluid without the hiccups one would normally find with a computerized voice. ¡°If the people behind have the same level of weaponry, there should be no issue to sacrifice a bit more defense.¡± The man would nod his head as he gave the order. ¡°Then switch to minimum defense, increase physical strength to the limit, fix legs for increased momentum.¡± Stepping back, he¡¯d walk backward till he hit the entrance to the room he was in. Measuring the distance, he¡¯d side step so he¡¯d hit against only one of the doors. His plan was simple, crash into the door and use his strength to grip the door, provide himself with a frontal shield to weather the first few blasts of whatever weapon they had.


    As he confirmed his own plan in his mind, he¡¯d crouch low, fingers touching the floor in a runner¡¯s pose. His back hunched just slightly as his armor would be shifting. What little armor plating he had dissolving into the suit itself as veins began to grow in its place, a lattice network of synthetic muscle fibers that squeezed against the man¡¯s arms, providing support and resilience, increasing his physical strength and force. The remainder of the dissolved plates would gather in key points to create a balance of mass in specific areas to increase the overall force of his movements. In essence, he¡¯d convert his armor¡¯s shape into something that would give himself, with the momentum from his running, a force like a wrecking ball.


    Just as his breathing steadied, long breaths in and out, his eyes narrowed to slits, focusing on the goal before him. His legs tensed, body like a drawn bow ready to fire. Then the next moment, the floor cracked, his body disappearing from where it once was as he dashed forward. The man¡¯s legs having released an explosive force that allowed his momentum to increase wildly, the distance just enough to reach his maximum speed just as he crashed into the door. Unfortunately, what he didn¡¯t account for was how much force he¡¯d hit the door with. It was enough to break through, yes, but it was also enough to crack the door as he piled through, the force breaking the door into large pieces. What use it¡¯d be as a shield eliminated as he entered the room, seeing six guards wielding what looked like pistol rifles like the men on the roof had. Their eyes widened in surprise at the hulking force that had just barreled through the door.


    ¡°Activate defensive plating!¡± The man in the armor cried out to himself, the armor beginning it¡¯s transition even as he continued to barrel forward without much control. He didn¡¯t lose sight of the target though, a rather fit man who was standing behind a desk that was made of fine quality wood, cigar in his mouth that was opening up. Everything was as if in slow motion for the man in the armor, he could feel as the suit¡¯s skin was shifting and altering. The man behind the desk yelling out as he caught the cigar, ¡°FIRE!¡±


    The six guards, collecting themselves would aim, their focus on the armored man who¡¯d grit his teeth. The time for him speeding back up as he¡¯d make a quick decision. Reaching both hands out, he¡¯d grab two pieces of the broken door, his leg moving to kick a third, causing it to split away, flying right into the chest of one of the six gunmen, the other two pieces were thrown at the other two on the same side as the one who was killed. The fast-moving heavy pieces of door smashing into them, knocking them aside along with their guns, arms crushed into mangled heaps.


    At the same moment that he tossed, he¡¯d turn himself, bringing up his freed up arms to shield his chest and head as the pistols of the other three fired, beams of weakened plasma energy blasting across his arms, stronger than the pistol before, the blow carried some kinetic force and thanks to the kick he was off balance enough. The three blasts of energy acting in concert to knock the man back into a roll. Thankfully, the computer system that had responded to him initially knew what the man was going to do and focused the defensive plating to activate toward the front and focus on his arms.


    The searing bolts of plasma energy had carved almost 3cm into the man¡¯s armor plating, destroying the nanite armor in the area, requiring more to be built up through it¡¯d take time. But he couldn¡¯t think about that as he¡¯d move his arms, still stinging from the blasts that hit them, smashing his hands into the ground to grip at the tiles that were on the floor, dragged back a few more inches before stopping. His breath heavy, panting but he couldn¡¯t stop, stopping would mean death. Already the three guards were readying to fire again, pulling himself forward, he¡¯d swing his left arm forward, launching the grappling hook at the man in the middle. Unfortunately, he¡¯d see the device coming and avoid it, allowing it to attach to the wall. His eyes still focused on the armored man who in the suit would grin.


    Activating the device, he¡¯d direct it to pull him, letting go of the floor completely as he¡¯d come flying at the middle guard. This time, his dodging was less than perfect as even as he¡¯d move to step away while in surprise, the armored man reached an arm to grab him by the head, yanking his head off with him just as he¡¯d deactivate the device on the wall, letting it detach and switch it to connect to his wrist. Meanwhile, with his right hand holding the man¡¯s head, he¡¯d twist on his heel as the foot touched the ground, turning and throwing the head as hard as he could to smash into another guard¡¯s face, breaking his teeth and forcing him to stumble away.


    With one guard left, he¡¯d fire off his pistol-rifle once more, but this time there was only one man and the defensive plating would just finish activating. Besides the 3cm hole on one of the arm¡¯s, the rest were set and the blast didn¡¯t have two other bolts of plasma energy to support it. The armor heated in the spot hit, but the armored man didn¡¯t even feel the blow as he¡¯d charge forward to grab the man¡¯s gun, squeezing to crush the barrel as he yanked his arm backward. The Guard, smart enough to let go wasn¡¯t dragged forward but it was still too late as a large fist appeared in his vision, smashing into his face and crashing through it. The bloody bits splattered forward onto the Gang Leader¡¯s desk as the man stepped backward in fear and disgust.


    Not missing a beat, with his other hand still gripping that guard¡¯s gun, he¡¯d twist and fling the gun as hard as he can, smashing it into the other guard¡¯s face once again, this time with better footing and enough force to concuss the man, knocking him out. As he¡¯d turn, facing the gang leader, the man would scramble to grab his pistol under the desk, the armored man grabbing the dead man that was falling to hold him forward like a shield.


    Charging forward, he¡¯d glower as he¡¯d feel the blasts of a stronger pistol, kinetic it felt like. The loud blasts of the pistol as it fired off bullets, gas expanding violently as each shot propelled forward to strike against the body. Even with the caliber seeming to travel deep, the shots still wasted time to blast through the body, being little more than scraps against the man¡¯s armor as he¡¯d hit the desk and kicked out mightly. The force of the kick shattering the wood but the steel beneath the wood would bend slightly before crashing backward from the force, slamming against the gang leader as it skidded back, causing him to bend forward over the desk while yelling out in pain, gun knocked aside.


    Tossing aside the body, looking at the leader, the man panted for a few quiet seconds before stepping toward the gang leader just as he was about to stand up. Reaching over the desk, he¡¯d grab the man by his head, slamming it right back down into the steel reinforced wood desk. The nose broke, teeth shattered, his vision swam and his voice gurgled as he tried to speak. Yet the armored man didn¡¯t listen and instead smashed his head into the table two more times, his skull caving in, brains splattering against the desk, the life in the Red Crows snuffed just like that. The moment he saw the man¡¯s brain matter, the armored man let go, stepping back from the scene of the gruesome sight, shaking his head somewhat to try and clear his thoughts. As he turned, looking at the guards, he¡¯d make his way toward them, making sure they were dead. The cruel smashing of their skulls ensured the end for the few that still had whole bodies, the armored man contemplating his next move. There were still credits for killing the rest, even with the leader now dead and if he cleared them all out he could just call the authorities to clean up and make sure he got full credit for them all. The calculations for what this hunt would reward him with surpassing what he¡¯d expect as he¡¯d grin a bit and continued out of the room. He¡¯d make his way toward the stairs, where now the gang members were preparing, word spreading while he was killing the gang leader thanks to someone having seen the massacre and informing the rest.


    Despite the preparations that the gangs were making, it would be virtually impossible to plan for the individual who made his way down. He wasn¡¯t rushed like he was before the gang was bottled up thanks to their leader¡¯s stubborn refusal to move along as the planetary government wished. If any strayed too far from the headquarters they would be met with the vultures waiting for such opportunities.


    That¡¯s not to say that some few didn¡¯t attempt an escape but for those that remained the suited man who came down those steps would be smiling within his helmet as he saw them arrayed. Tables knocked over so they could crouch behind, charge pistols at the ready even if they couldn¡¯t charge the gang members hoped that the whole reason for the carnage that was told was because they couldn¡¯t shoot. The man would speak to his suit, his voice muted, unhearable by the gang members, ¡°Shift mass toward fists, apply light armoring over the front.¡± Immediately the nanites shifted and maneuvered, the suit¡¯s back thinning as the front thickened slightly yet even more so the mass of the nanites around his hands grew heavier, adding weight to his blows while he¡¯d lean forward.


    His foot dug into the ground, launching himself forward as the members fired, their pitiful blasts of energy not even causing the suit to singe as he barreled toward the closest table. His hand swinging underhanded, crashing through the table and sending splinters flying backward into those members who hoped for its protection. They believed him to have used some type of gun, now their foolishness cost as his swing continued, punching through a man¡¯s chest, stopping just barely out his back as the suited man gripped at the spine that was in hand¡¯s reach. He¡¯d use it to lift the man up bodily, swinging him around toward those nearby, knocking them off their feet toward the walls or the other table. His movements quick, efficient as he¡¯d finally rear back and swing the corpse at the only table that hadn¡¯t been hit, crashing into it and knocking the others back.


    Charging forward, he¡¯d crush, brutalize and pound the individual gang members to pieces, sometimes by ripping off their limbs to use as weapons or using their whole body. Their weapons virtually worthless, even in concentrated fire against his body they¡¯d either deflect uselessly via a glancing blow or barely heat up the spot they fired on. All while this man rampaged ruthlessly through them. Overall it took little more than an hour to see his way through the rest of the gang members compound.


    By the time he reached the last two floors, those who had fled reached the point where only half the second floor¡¯s members remained and the first floor was virtually empty. A trail of blood and bones littered the building and showed the suited man¡¯s path through the gang stronghold. As he stepped out of the building¡¯s front doors finally, looking around. The gaze within the suit¡¯s helmet was somewhat dazed, astounded and surprised as he spoke, ¡°This Mission is completed¡­ Already?¡± As he asked this, seemingly to himself, the computerized voice would speak, at first in that computerized tone yet shifted as it seemed to obtain a semblance of humanity, ¡°It appears so Set. Considering this was a first true test run of this suit, I believe I handled it quite well, wouldn¡¯t you agree?¡±


    Laughter came from Set as he¡¯d grin then, shaking his head while opening up a holographic menu before him. It was a seemingly flat screen, floating directly in front of him, projected by both the suit and specific implants that rested against the corners of his eyes. He¡¯d move, opening up a list of contacts and eventually would call up the area¡¯s local security forces as he¡¯d speak to his old friend that lived inside his head, ¡°Hey, I did damned well myself, and at least we didn¡¯t break anything important with it, right?¡±


    ¡°We? Who¡¯s this we? If I hadn¡¯t taken care of your acts of bullheaded stupidity I¡¯d be talking to you with a hole in the suit and you!¡± The reply was frustrated yet playful and soon laughed, the laughter echoing in Set¡¯s head, making him grumble as he reached up. The helmet¡¯s nanites sliding down and away, revealing a head of messy black hair that he¡¯d rustle in annoyance, ¡°Hey, no laughing so much, you know that shit gives me a headache!¡± He¡¯d complain, walking away from the entrance to lean against the wall, a sigh escaping out while the suit itself would shift and alter its appearance, giving off the look of normal street clothing. A pair of sturdy jeans and a white short sleeved shirt that covered Set¡¯s pale skin, all while hazel eyes looked out, asking quietly. ¡°You think any are going to come back? I mean it¡¯s chump change compared to the rest but¡­¡±


    The voice would reply with a note of hesitation, ¡°We can¡¯t be sure, but it should be fine. You should be more worried about the planetary governor tearing you a new one. I still say we should have focused on the leader only.¡±


    ¡°Hey! It¡¯s not like they can deny us the money, a job¡¯s a job, right?¡±