《Shared Premonitions - Book 1》 Chapter 1: The genomes of war Sergeant Dmitry Ivanov''s muscles ached, but it was a good ache¡ªthe kind that reminded him of progress. He crouched in the snow-covered field, the frosty air biting at his skin, but he didn¡¯t feel the cold like he once did. Since his latest injection, his body had started to change in ways he hadn¡¯t expected. It wasn¡¯t just the strength, though that alone set him leagues ahead of his peers. It was the instincts, the heightened awareness that let him hear the crunch of boots in snow far beyond what any human could. ¡°Ivanov! On your feet!¡± barked Captain Yegor Mikhailov from the edge of the training ground. The other soldiers, bundled tightly in their winter gear, watched Dmitry with a mix of awe and unease. He¡¯d been one of only a handful selected for the program¡ªa chance to serve his country in ways others could only dream of. Dmitry rose, his movement fluid and precise. The captain nodded to the obstacle course ahead, a twisted maze of climbing walls, ice-covered pits, and barbed wire. ¡°Let¡¯s go soldier we don¡¯t have all day.¡± The whistle blew, and Dmitry was off. His legs propelled him forward with an unnatural speed, his boots barely making contact with the frozen ground. He leapt over the first wall with ease, the surge of power in his muscles feeling almost intoxicating. Behind him, the other soldiers murmured among themselves, their voices tinged with envy and fear. By the time Dmitry reached the end of the course, the stopwatch in Captain Mikhailov¡¯s hand read one minute and twenty seconds. Dmitry stood tall, his chest heaving but his face calm. The captain¡¯s expression was unreadable, but there was a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes. ¡°Outstanding,¡± Mikhailov said. ¡°You¡¯ve set another record. Dismissed.¡± As Dmitry made his way back to the barracks, he couldn¡¯t help but feel a swell of pride. The injections, the grueling tests, the endless nights of training¡ªit was all worth it. He was becoming something greater, something unstoppable. But as he caught his reflection in the frost-covered window of the barracks, a flicker of doubt crept into his mind. His eyes, once a pale blue, now glinted with a faint amber hue in the low light. Later that night, Dmitry sat on his bunk, the room dimly lit by the glow of a single bulb overhead. Around him, the other soldiers whispered in hushed tones. He could feel their gazes on him even when his back was turned.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. ¡°What do you think they¡¯re doing to him?¡± one of them muttered. ¡°He¡¯s not the same anymore.¡± ¡°He¡¯s stronger than all of us,¡± another replied. ¡°This program excites and terrifies me man¡± Dmitry ignored them, focusing instead on the faint hum in his ears. It wasn¡¯t the light bulb, nor the murmur of voices. It was deeper, like a vibration just beneath the surface of his skin. He flexed his hand, watching as the veins seemed to pulse unnaturally. The injections were doing something more than making him stronger. They were changing him.
In the command center, Captain Mikhailov stood before a group of scientists clad in white lab coats. ¡°Ivanov is performing beyond expectations,¡± he reported. ¡°The program is working.¡± Dr. Yelena Morozova, the lead scientist, adjusted her glasses and tapped a monitor displaying Dmitry¡¯s biometrics. ¡°The changes are accelerating. Neural activity is up 20% since the last injection. Muscle density has increased by 30%. But¡­¡± ¡°But what?¡± Mikhailov demanded. Morozova hesitated. ¡°There are¡­ side effects. Behavioral changes. Heightened aggression. Loss of self-control under stress.¡± Mikhailov frowned. ¡°Can it be contained?¡± ¡°For now,¡± Morozova replied. ¡°But if we continue at this pace, there¡¯s no guarantee he will remain stable.¡± The captain¡¯s gaze hardened. ¡°The program must succeed. The Motherland is counting on us.¡±
Dmitry awoke in the middle of the night, his heart pounding. The barracks were silent, the other soldiers fast asleep. But something was wrong. The hum beneath his skin had turned into a roar, a tidal wave of energy he couldn¡¯t contain. He stumbled outside into the frigid night, his breath visible in the icy air. His vision blurred, the amber glow in his eyes intensifying. His nails¡ªno, claws¡ªdug into the wooden railing as he gripped it for support. A low growl escaped his throat, unbidden and primal. ¡°What¡¯s happening to me?¡± he whispered, his voice trembling. From the shadows, Captain Mikhailov emerged, flanked by two armed guards. ¡°Ivanov,¡± he said, his tone calm but firm. ¡°Come with us. Now.¡± Dmitry turned to face him, his breathing ragged. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ I don¡¯t think I can.¡± Mikhailov¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°You don¡¯t have a choice.¡± As the guards stepped forward, Dmitry¡¯s instincts took over. He moved faster than he thought possible, his body a blur of motion. One guard went down with a single swipe of Dmitry¡¯s hand, his rifle clattering to the ground. The other hesitated, fear flashing across his face. ¡°Stand down, Ivanov!¡± Mikhailov shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos. Dmitry froze, his chest heaving. The growl in his throat subsided, replaced by a crushing wave of guilt. He looked down at his hands, the claws retracting as quickly as they had appeared. ¡°What have you done to me?¡± he asked, his voice breaking. Mikhailov stepped closer, his expression unreadable. ¡°You wanted to be a soldier, Ivanov. This is what it takes.¡± Chapter 2: The Rising Tide The morning air was sharp and clear, but Dmitry Ivanov felt as if he were drowning. His body hummed with residual energy from the night before, and though he had finally managed to control whatever surge had overtaken him, the memory of it lingered. He stood at attention on the training field, surrounded by his fellow soldiers. Captain Mikhailov¡¯s voice cut through the brisk air as he addressed them. ¡°Comrades, the Dogs Program is not for the weak or faint of heart. It demands sacrifice for your country and for yourselves. The Motherland requires soldiers who are willing to transcend their limits, and that is what you will become.¡± Mikhailov¡¯s eyes briefly met Dmitry¡¯s, a silent reminder of the previous night¡¯s confrontation. Dmitry stared straight ahead, refusing to let his unease show. ¡°Today,¡± Mikhailov continued, ¡°we push further. New drills. New tests. Those who falter will be reassigned.¡± The captain¡¯s words hung in the air as the soldiers shifted uneasily. Reassignment was a polite term for failure, and in this program, failure wasn¡¯t an option. Dmitry clenched his fists, feeling the faint prickle of energy beneath his skin. He would not falter.
The day¡¯s drills were grueling. Dmitry moved through the obstacle course faster than ever before, his body responding with a precision that felt almost alien. He scaled walls, crawled under barbed wire, and carried weights that no normal soldier could manage. The other soldiers, though competent and each changing in their own way, couldn¡¯t match him. He noticed their glances, the murmurs that followed him like shadows. During a break, Dmitry sat alone on a bench, the cold metal pressing through his fatigues. He flexed his hands, watching the veins pulse beneath his skin. The injections had made him stronger, faster, sharper. But they had also made him different. ¡°Ivanov.¡± He looked up to see Corporal Pavel Sokolov, one of his closest comrades before the program began. Pavel¡¯s expression was wary but curious. ¡°You¡¯re¡­ changing,¡± Pavel said, sitting down beside him. Dmitry forced a smile. ¡°We all are. That¡¯s the point.¡± Pavel shook his head. ¡°No one is changing like you, you¡¯re¡­ something else now.¡±The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Dmitry¡¯s smile faded. ¡°Do you fear me, Pavel?¡± Pavel hesitated. ¡°I don¡¯t know what to think. Just¡­ don¡¯t lose yourself in whatever this is. You¡¯re still a good man Dmitry. Remember that.¡± Dmitry said nothing, his eyes fixed on the horizon. Did he still feel like a good man? Could he even be considered a man at this point? He wasn¡¯t sure anymore.
In the sterile confines of the lab, Dr. Yelena Morozova examined Dmitry¡¯s latest test results. The data was astonishing. Neural activity had spiked again, and his physical performance had exceeded all projections. But the behavioral anomalies concerned her. ¡°He¡¯s becoming unstable,¡± Morozova said, turning to Captain Mikhailov. ¡°If this continues, he may lose control entirely.¡± Mikhailov¡¯s face was grim. ¡°Then we must ensure he doesn¡¯t. Dmitry is the pinnacle of this program. If he succeeds, so does the Motherland. We cannot afford failure.¡± Morozova sighed. ¡°Pushing him further will only accelerate the changes. He¡¯s already exhibiting¡­ primal behaviors. Increased aggression. Heightened territorial instincts. It¡¯s as if his humanity is being overwritten.¡± ¡°And yet he remains functional,¡± Mikhailov countered. ¡°Until he isn¡¯t, we proceed.¡±
That evening, Dmitry found himself unable to sleep. The barracks were quiet, the other soldiers lost in their own dreams. He lay on his bunk, staring at the ceiling, his thoughts a tangled web of doubt and determination. A faint sound drew his attention¡ªa scrape of metal against stone. He sat up, his heightened senses immediately alert. Slipping out of his bunk, he followed the sound outside. The training grounds were empty, but the scent of something unfamiliar lingered in the air. Dmitry moved cautiously, his steps silent on the frost-covered ground. The sound came again, sharper this time, leading him to the edge of the forest. There, in the shadows, he saw it. A pair of amber eyes glinted back at him, filled with an intelligence that mirrored his own. For a moment, Dmitry felt a connection¡ªan understanding that went beyond words. Then the creature vanished into the woods, leaving Dmitry alone with the realization that he was no longer the apex predator in this program. Something else was out there, something that called to the part of him he was beginning to fear.
The next morning, Dmitry approached Captain Mikhailov in his office. ¡°I need answers,¡± he said, his voice firm. Mikhailov looked up from his desk, his expression unreadable. ¡°About what?¡± ¡°The program,¡± Dmitry replied. ¡°What are we becoming?¡± Mikhailov leaned back in his chair, folding his hands. ¡°Weapons, Ivanov. That is what you signed up for. That is what you are.¡± ¡°And the creature I saw last night? What is it?¡± Mikhailov¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°That is classified.¡± Dmitry¡¯s fists clenched. ¡°I have a right to know.¡± ¡°You have a duty to obey,¡± Mikhailov said coldly. ¡°If you cannot do that, you will find yourself expendable.¡± Dmitry stared at him for a long moment, the tension thick between them. Finally, he turned and left, his mind racing. Whatever was happening, he had to learn to control it. With every step he took he noted his blood burning for aggression and his will fighting to keep it contained. Chapter 3: The Dog Pack Rises Dmitry Ivanov stood at the center of the training grounds, his breath visible in the frosty morning air. Around him, the other participants in the Dogs Program watched silently, their expressions a mix of apprehension and curiosity. Captain Mikhailov had called them here for a reason, but none of them knew what to expect. ¡°Comrades,¡± Mikhailov began, his voice sharp and commanding. ¡°The time has come for us to push this program to its next phase. You have all proven your worth as soldiers, but now we will determine who among you is truly exceptional.¡± The tension in the air was palpable. Dmitry¡¯s enhanced senses picked up the faint murmurs and shuffling of boots. He could feel the energy of the group, their shared anxiety mingling with determination. ¡°You will face a series of challenges,¡± Mikhailov continued. ¡°Physical, mental, and¡­ experimental. Only the best will advance to the final tier of this program. The Motherland demands nothing less than perfection.¡± Dmitry¡¯s jaw tightened. He had come too far to falter now. Whatever these challenges entailed, he would meet them head-on.
The first test was endurance. The soldiers were tasked with carrying weighted packs through the dense forest surrounding the base. Snow fell steadily, the icy wind biting at their faces. Dmitry moved with an ease that unnerved even him. His body, strengthened beyond human limits, barely registered the strain. He noticed, however, that some of his peers struggled. A few fell behind, their breaths ragged and labored. ¡°Come on!¡± Dmitry barked at a fellow soldier, a younger man named Yuri who had been part of his unit before the program. ¡°Don¡¯t give up now!¡± Yuri looked up at him, his face pale and glistening with sweat. He nodded weakly and pushed himself forward, but Dmitry could see the fear in his eyes. Fear of failure. Fear of what would happen if he couldn¡¯t keep up. By the time they reached the checkpoint, only a few dozen soldiers remained in the running. Mikhailov stood waiting, his expression impassive as he took note of each arrival. ¡°Good,¡± he said when the last soldier staggered in. ¡°But this was only the beginning.¡±
The second test was far more grueling. The soldiers were taken to an underground facility, a maze of dimly lit corridors and reinforced steel doors. Each was given a simple directive: survive. 39 soldiers stepped into fights against groups of 3 padded combatants each and were forced to take them all out, non-lethally if possible, to progress forward. 1 soldier stepped into something else. As Dmitry stepped into his designated corridor; his senses heightened. The air was thick with the scent of oil and metal, and the faint hum of machinery echoed around him. He moved cautiously, his instincts guiding him. He knew this wasn¡¯t just a test of physical prowess. It was a test of his ability to control the animalistic side of himself that the injections had awakened. A low growl reached his ears, and he froze. Ahead, in the shadows, things writhed. Dmitry crouched, his eyes narrowing as he tried to make out the figure or figures. The sounds weren¡¯t human. The creatures that emerged into the faint light, amber eyes gleaming were from the program¡¯s earlier experiments¡ªfailed experiments, but no less deadly for it. Their bodies were twisted, their movements jerky but powerful. Dmitry held his ground as the creatures began to attack. He sidestepped, his reflexes faster than he had anticipated. With a swift motion, he drove his knife into it¡¯s the side of one, the blade sinking deep into the creature¡¯s flesh. It let out a howl of pain but didn¡¯t stop. Another tackled him from the other side and Dmitry was knocked to the ground, his strength barely enough to throw the creature and jump back on his feet. As the next creature jumped moved forward the first and second regained their footing behind him. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. He could count 5 creatures, 4 the same grotesque damnation and the 5th something more akin to a gorilla, only, larger. Sensing the creatures pressing in on all sides Dmitry pulled a rage from deep inside and told it to kill. In the time it took his eyes to flicker amber, then blue Dmitry grew. Two feet taller, 200lbs heavier, hands and feet tipped with enormous claws. His body had thicken and grown a protective coat of fur all while he turned and jumped towards the two injured creatures behind him. By the time Dmitry made impact the transformation had completed. He absolutely smashed the face of the creature on his right. Reaching down pulled the creatures head clean away from its body. Turning he smashed the corpse into the other creature while continuing to rush forward shoving both fists through the creatures chest and ripping outward showering everything in the creatures blood and innards as he ripped it in half. All of this left him with distance to the final 2 attacking creatures and the 5th that continued to hold back, sitting, watching. A guttural roar escaped Dmitry as he dug his feet into the surface of the stone, turned, and lunged forward at wild speeds. Running at, then between the two creatures ahead of him he punched right through the throats of each ripping their heads clean off. Blood, gore, and the sounds of his deep-guttural breathing filled the room as he flexed, stretched and beyond his control loosened a howl of victory as his form pitched skyward. Standing there, muscles taught, violence feeling as necessary as breathing Dmitry considered the final creature in the room. He threw himself towards it, stopping with his face inches from the gorilla shaped beast. The creature stood starring right back, enormous chest puffed but made no move to attack. After moments turned into minutes the beast took a step back, and dropped to one knee. He pulled his shoulders forward and bowed his head in gesture of subservience to whatever Dmitry had become. Dmitry couldn¡¯t stop himself, he moved to tear the beasts neck apart, he bent down, took a deep breath and realized he could sense much about this beast from the air around it. A taste, a smell, a population of knowledge telling him that this beast was powerful, intelligent, and something tugged at Dmitry to bring more of his human self forward. Several deep breaths later and Dmitry had reduce his form almost back to normal. He had successfully overcome his drive to kill and put rage back in the box. The beast made no move to reassert dominance. ¡°Stand up¡± Dmitry said and so the beast stood.
By the end of the trials, only 27 soldiers remained. Dmitry stood among them, his body bruised but his resolve unshaken. Mikhailov addressed the group, his tone almost reverent. ¡°You are the best of the best,¡± he said. ¡°The elite. From this moment forward, you are no longer merely soldiers. You are the Dogs.¡± The soldiers exchanged glances, the weight of the captain¡¯s words sinking in. Dmitry felt a strange mix of pride and unease. He had earned his place, this is what he had been after all along but there were sides to him now that he didn¡¯t recognize, uncertainty tampered elation and the gap between weighed on his soul. All gathered in the yard in pack formation Mikhailov addressed the group. ¡°Through Dmitry we have perfected the serum.¡± Mikhailov said. ¡°The rest of you have been on a fine cocktail of vitamins and steroids. With the success Dmitry has shown and your graduation of this program you will all now receive the true Dog serum,¡± Mikhailov continued. ¡°Dmitry you will select nine comrades to form your pack. There will be 3 packs for now. These packs will operate independently, each with its own leader. Ivanov,¡± he said, turning to Dmitry, ¡°you will choose first.¡± Dmitry stepped forward, his mind racing. He scanned the faces of the remaining soldiers, looking for those he trusted, those who had proven themselves in the trials. ¡°What will become of the beast from my fight¡± Dmitry asked. ¡°It will be disposed of properly; it is a failed experiment.¡± Mikhailov replied. ¡°No, I would like to have the beast beside me as a member of my squad. One by one, he called names of other soldiers to join him. Yuri was among them, though Dmitry couldn¡¯t shake the memory of the fear he had seen in his eyes. When the selections were complete, the newly formed packs stood at attention, their leaders at the forefront. Mikhailov nodded, satisfied. ¡°You are ready,¡± he said. ¡°Soon, the world will know what the Motherland has created.¡± Dmitry felt a chill that had nothing to do with the cold. The path ahead was clear, but it was far from certain. As he looked at the soldiers who now depended on him, he vowed silently that he would not let them down¡ªno matter what the future held. There were now all going to become Super Soldiers. Chapter 4 : The Dogs Forward The barracks hummed with an uneasy silence. The trials had been grueling, leaving Dmitry Ivanov and the rest of the Dog Pack teetering on the edge of exhaustion. The walls, gray and bare, offered little comfort. Soldiers huddled in clusters, their whispered conversations punctuated by nervous glances toward the upper levels where the commanders held their meetings. Dmitry sat alone, his back against a cold metal locker, methodically sharpening a combat knife. The steady rasp of steel against stone was a small reprieve from the chaos in his mind. Across the room, Yuri, his closest comrade, was trying to break the tension with a deck of cards, enticing a few others to join him. But even Yuri¡¯s usual optimism felt strained. ¡°Ivanov,¡± Captain Mikhailov¡¯s voice boomed from the doorway, snapping Dmitry¡¯s attention upward. The room fell silent. ¡°A word.¡± Dmitry sheathed his knife and rose, his muscles stiff from the relentless drills. He followed Mikhailov through the narrow corridors of the base, their boots echoing on the concrete floor. The air was thick with the acrid scent of oil and disinfectant. They entered a dimly lit briefing room where Dr. Yelena Morozova and a group of high-ranking officers waited. Mikhailov gestured for Dmitry to stand at attention. ¡°The results of your trials have exceeded expectations,¡± the captain began. ¡°You¡¯ve proven yourself not only as the strongest, but also as the most adaptable. The time has come for the next phase.¡± Morozova stepped forward, her clipboard clasped tightly in her hands. ¡°Dmitry, the Dog Serum has made you the prototype of what this program was designed to achieve. Now, we¡¯re ready to replicate it. The rest of your comrades will undergo their final transformations tomorrow.¡± Dmitry¡¯s chest tightened. ¡°And my role?¡± Mikhailov¡¯s gaze was unwavering. ¡°You will lead the first pack. Nine soldiers. Handpicked by you. Together, you will be the Motherland¡¯s spearhead in the battles to come.¡± Dmitry¡¯s mind raced as he processed the weight of the responsibility. His gaze flicked to Morozova. ¡°What about the side effects?¡± ¡°Manageable,¡± she replied curtly. ¡°As long as the procedures are followed precisely. You, Dmitry, have demonstrated the ability to control the beast within. Your leadership will be crucial in ensuring the same for the others.¡± The meeting ended with little fanfare. As Dmitry made his way back to the barracks, his thoughts churned. The faces of his comrades flashed through his mind, each one carrying a mix of determination and fear. He¡¯d seen what the serum could do¡ªboth the power it unleashed and the toll it exacted.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Back in the barracks, the atmosphere shifted as Dmitry entered. All eyes turned to him, the weight of unspoken questions hanging in the air. He cleared his throat, addressing the room. ¡°Tomorrow, you will undergo the final transformations. The serum will push you to the edge, but you will come out stronger. I¡¯ve been asked to select my pack¡­ our pack.¡± Murmurs rippled through the group. Yuri stepped forward, his usual humor replaced with a rare seriousness. ¡°And who¡¯s in this pack, Dmitry?¡± Dmitry hesitated. ¡°Yuri, you¡¯re with me.¡± Relief and pride flickered across Yuri¡¯s face as Dmitry called out the names of eight others, each chosen for their skill, resilience, and trustworthiness. When the list was complete, the room fell silent once more. ¡°We are in this together,¡± Dmitry said firmly. ¡°Whatever comes next, we face it as a pack.¡± The next morning arrived with an icy stillness. The selected soldiers gathered in the lab, their expressions a mixture of resolve and apprehension. Dmitry stood at the forefront, watching as Morozova and her team prepared the injections. The beast, the hulking creature Dmitry had spared during his trials, stood in a corner of the room under heavy guard, its amber eyes locked on him. Each soldier took their turn in the chair, the serum administered with clinical precision. Dmitry watched intently, noting every grimace of pain, every convulsion as the transformations began. Yuri was among the first. He gripped the arms of the chair until his knuckles turned white, his body wracked with tremors. But when it was over, he stood, his eyes glowing faintly with a newfound power. The process took hours. By the time the last soldier stepped away from the chair, the pack had changed. They were stronger, faster, and more attuned to their surroundings. The air around them seemed to hum with energy. Captain Mikhailov entered the lab, his presence commanding immediate attention. ¡°You are no longer ordinary soldiers,¡± he declared. ¡°You are the Dogs of the Motherland. The apex predators of the battlefield. From this day forward, the world will know what we have created.¡± The pack raised their fists in unison, a low growl rising from their throats. Dmitry felt the weight of their gazes, the implicit trust they placed in him as their leader. He turned to the beast, meeting its unwavering stare. ¡°You¡¯re one of us now,¡± he said quietly. The creature tilted its massive head in acknowledgment. That evening, the pack gathered in the barracks. For the first time in weeks, there was laughter and camaraderie, though it was tinged with the unspoken understanding of what lay ahead. Dmitry observed his comrades, noting the subtle changes in their demeanor. They were stronger, yes, but also more volatile. The beast within each of them was a double-edged sword. As night fell, Dmitry stepped outside, the cold Siberian wind biting at his skin. The beast followed, its massive form a silent shadow. Dmitry stared at the moonlit expanse of snow, his thoughts heavy. ¡°The world isn¡¯t ready for us,¡± he murmured. The beast rumbled softly in agreement. Together, they stood in the stillness, the weight of their shared burden pressing down on them. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, but for now, they embraced the quiet, knowing it wouldn¡¯t last. Chapter 5 : Transformation Day The barracks stirred before dawn, a quiet ripple of movement and murmured voices. Today was the day the rest of the pack would receive the serum series, and the weight of anticipation pressed down like the cold Siberian air. Dmitry Ivanov, already transformed by the initial injections, sat silently on his bunk, his hands clasped tightly together. He watched the others with a quiet intensity, ready to guide them through the process he knew too well. The beast lay in the corner of the room, its steady breathing a low hum in the background. Despite its non-verbal nature, it had become a silent pillar in the group. The soldiers had begun to accept its presence, though wariness lingered in their gazes. Dmitry found himself glancing at it often, a reminder of what lay ahead for his comrades. ¡°Up and ready, men!¡± Captain Mikhailov¡¯s voice broke the stillness, sharp and commanding. He strode into the barracks, his boots striking the floor with deliberate force. ¡°Today, you take the next step. Report to the lab at once.¡± The soldiers moved quickly, the air thick with unspoken apprehension. Dmitry led the way, his pack following closely behind. Yuri walked just behind him, his usually bright demeanor replaced by a grim determination. Pavel brought up the rear, his knife tucked into his boot¡ªa small comfort he couldn¡¯t bring himself to part with. The lab was a stark contrast to the barracks, its sterile white walls and bright lights amplifying the sense of foreboding. Rows of medical equipment gleamed coldly, and a team of scientists awaited them, their faces impassive. Dr. Yelena Morozova stood at the forefront, her clipboard clutched tightly in her hands. ¡°Each of you will receive the serum series in quick succession,¡± she began, her voice calm but firm. ¡°The process will be monitored closely. Be aware that the changes will be¡­ intense. Physical, mental, and emotional. Dmitry will assist as needed.¡± The soldiers exchanged uneasy glances, but no one spoke. Dmitry stepped forward first to stand beside the equipment, his presence steadying. He gave Yuri an encouraging nod. Yuri was the first to take the chair, its design more reminiscent of a restraint device than a medical seat. As the first injection pierced his skin, his expression tightened, but he held firm. The transformation began almost immediately. His muscles convulsed, and his features twisted into something grotesquely beautiful, his eyes glowing with a lupine amber light. Claws emerged from his fingers, and his breathing turned ragged as a guttural growl escaped his throat. ¡°Let it flow, Yuri,¡± Dmitry said, his voice calm but commanding. ¡°Don¡¯t fight it. Acknowledge it. Let it run its course.¡± Yuri locked eyes with Dmitry, and the primal rage flickering within him seemed to calm. Moments later, his body sagged, returning to its human proportions. He passed out in the chair, his features softening into a peaceful slumber. Dr. Morozova nodded approvingly. ¡°Success. Let him rest.¡± Two orderlies moved Yuri to a nearby cot, where he slept soundly.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. One by one, the others underwent the process. Pavel, true to his nature, endured silently as his transformation took hold. His skin stretched over bulging muscles, and his teeth elongated into sharp fangs. For a brief moment, he let out a low snarl, his claws flexing against the restraints. Dmitry stepped forward, placing a firm hand on Pavel¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Let it flow,¡± Dmitry murmured. Pavel¡¯s growl softened, and his body returned to normal proportions. He slumped in the chair, unconscious but stable. Two orderlies carried him to the cots, where he joined Yuri in restful sleep. Nikolai¡¯s turn came, but it did not go as smoothly. As the serum entered his bloodstream, his transformation began with violent convulsions. His eyes darted wildly, glowing bright amber, as claws tore at the restraints. ¡°Stop it! Get it out of me!¡± he shouted, his voice filled with panic and rage. His muscles bulged grotesquely, his form taking on an unnatural appearance. ¡°Nikolai,¡± Dmitry said firmly, stepping into his line of sight. ¡°Let it happen. Don¡¯t fight it. You¡¯re part of the pack.¡± But Nikolai¡¯s panic overtook him. He thrashed violently, the chair creaking under the strain. Dmitry placed a hand on his shoulder, his amber eyes glowing fiercely. ¡°Listen to me! You¡¯re not alone in this. Let it flow.¡± Nikolai¡¯s struggles slowed for a moment, but the serum¡¯s effects intensified. His limbs spasmed uncontrollably, and his growls turned to guttural screams. Dmitry reached out, steadying him as best he could, but the transformation had gone awry. Nikolai¡¯s form became grotesque, his features warping into a monstrous visage. His limbs grew uneven appendages, and his movements became erratic and savage. The room fell silent as the creature that had once been Nikolai roared and lunged, no longer recognizing friend or foe. Dmitry acted swiftly, backing Nikolai into a corner with a powerful roar of his own. The beast¡¯s amber eyes met Dmitry¡¯s, flickering with a moment of recognition before being overtaken by madness. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Dmitry whispered, his voice heavy with sorrow. In one decisive motion, he ended Nikolai¡¯s suffering. The room was silent, the weight of the act settling heavily on everyone present. Dr. Morozova lowered her clipboard, her face pale but resolute. ¡°This was always a possibility,¡± she said quietly. ¡°Let us move forward.¡± The soldiers stood in stunned silence as the orderlies removed Nikolai¡¯s remains. Dmitry took a deep breath, steadying himself. ¡°We keep going,¡± he said, his voice steady despite the heaviness in his chest. When it came time for Anton, the quiet young man hesitated before taking the chair. The air was thick with tension as the injections began. For a moment, it seemed as though his body would reject the serum entirely. He convulsed violently, his breaths coming in shallow gasps. The scientists exchanged worried glances, and one muttered, ¡°He¡¯s not going to make it.¡± ¡°Wait,¡± Dmitry said firmly. ¡°Give him time.¡± Anton¡¯s body stilled, and the room held its collective breath. Then, with a sudden burst of energy, his transformation began. Unlike the others, his form expanded with an almost serene grace, his features taking on a strikingly lupine elegance. His eyes glowed a deep, piercing gold, and his movements were fluid and controlled. Dr. Morozova stepped forward, her voice tinged with awe. ¡°Remarkable. He¡¯ll require further observation, but this is¡­ extraordinary.¡± Dmitry approached Anton, meeting his steady gaze. ¡°Welcome to the pack,¡± he said, his tone carrying both pride and caution. The beast, watching silently from the corner, rumbled its approval. As the soldiers settled into their cots to rest, Dmitry remained awake, his senses attuned to the changes in the room. The air was thick with the scent of transformation, of something both primal and extraordinary. Tomorrow, they would awaken as something new. For now, Dmitry watched over them, a leader among predators, preparing for the days to come. Chapter 6 : The First Mission The two days leading up to the mission were unlike anything the pack had experienced since the start of the program. Rest and recovery replaced the grueling training routines, and the tension that had gripped them began to loosen. Food was plentiful, and the barracks buzzed with quiet camaraderie. Training sessions were minimal, limited to light drills and discussions of strategy. For the first time in months, the Dogs were allowed to breathe. But the reprieve was short-lived. When the morning of the mission arrived, the pack gathered in the briefing room, their anticipation palpable. Captain Mikhailov stood before them, his presence commanding as ever. His voice was calm but firm as he addressed the soldiers. "There is nothing different here from what we have each spent years training for," Mikhailov began, his gaze sweeping the room. "Don¡¯t worry about your body and the changes in your instincts and urges today. The key is to come to a balanced agreement¡ªnegotiate with your beast. Remind it why we don¡¯t let it out¡­ until we do." The room was silent, the soldiers hanging on his every word. "You can accomplish much with the small changes you experienced when you received your injections. Each of you had unique and common changes that will serve you. Let the beast play, just don¡¯t let it out. Trust your gut. Thank it, even when what lay before you seems to have come from the devil himself." The weight of his words settled over them like a thick blanket. Dmitry, seated at the front, felt a flicker of reassurance. He had fought hard to master the primal force within him, and now it was time to put that mastery to the test.
The roar of engines filled the air as the transport vehicles rumbled across the frozen tundra. Snow kicked up in swirling clouds, masking the convoy from above. Dmitry Ivanov sat at the front of the lead vehicle, his gaze fixed on the horizon. Beside him, Captain Mikhailov reviewed the mission details on a tablet, his face lit with a cold, flickering light. "This is it," Mikhailov said, breaking the silence. "The first deployment of the Dog Pack. The world will soon see what the Motherland has created." Dmitry nodded, his expression unreadable. Behind them, the pack sat in tense silence, their enhanced senses attuned to every jolt of the vehicle, every whisper of the wind outside. Even the beast, nestled in the back of the largest transport, seemed to share their collective focus. The mission was simple in concept but perilous in execution: neutralize an enemy outpost deep within contested territory. The opposition forces had fortified their position, relying on cutting-edge technology and relentless vigilance. They had no idea what was coming for them. The convoy stopped a mile from the target, shrouded by the dense forest that edged the battlefield. Dmitry and his pack disembarked silently, their movements fluid and coordinated. The snow underfoot crunched softly, but even that sound seemed muted against the cold, still air.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. Mikhailov addressed them with a low, commanding voice. "The objective is clear. No survivors, no witnesses. Move as one, strike as one. Dmitry, your pack leads the charge." Dmitry turned to his pack, his amber-tinged eyes scanning their faces. ¡°You know what to do. Stay sharp, stay together. Let¡¯s show them what we¡¯re capable of.¡± The pack fanned out, their enhanced senses guiding them through the dark forest. Dmitry could hear the faint hum of the enemy¡¯s equipment long before they reached the perimeter. He signaled for a halt, crouching low to study the layout of the outpost. The enemy camp was a hive of activity, soldiers patrolling in disciplined patterns, drones hovering overhead, their searchlights cutting through the darkness. The pack watched silently, their breaths steady, their muscles coiled like springs. Dmitry raised his hand, signaling Yuri to disable the perimeter defenses. Yuri moved with a predator¡¯s grace, his fingers a blur as he hacked into the enemy¡¯s systems. Within moments, the drone lights flickered and died, and the electric hum of the fence faded into silence. ¡°Go,¡± Dmitry whispered. The pack surged forward, shadows in the night. They moved with an inhuman speed and precision, their enhanced bodies a blur of controlled violence. Dmitry led the charge, his claws slicing through barriers and enemies alike. The beast followed closely, its massive form tearing through obstacles with a brutal efficiency. The enemy didn¡¯t stand a chance. Confusion spread like wildfire as their defenses crumbled. Soldiers shouted orders, their voices tinged with panic, but the Dogs were relentless. Pavel took out a machine gun nest with a single, thunderous leap, while Yuri disarmed a squad with a combination of speed and cunning. Dmitry¡¯s focus narrowed as he reached the command center. Bursting through the reinforced doors, he found the enemy commander surrounded by a flurry of tactical maps and monitors. The man¡¯s eyes widened in terror as Dmitry approached, his claws gleaming in the dim light. ¡°Please,¡± the commander stammered. ¡°I¡­ I can¡­¡± Dmitry didn¡¯t give him a chance to finish. One swift motion, and the commander¡¯s body crumpled to the floor. He turned to the monitors, smashing them with his fists to erase any trace of their operation. By the time the pack regrouped at the edge of the forest, the outpost was nothing more than smoldering ruins. Dmitry looked at his team, their faces streaked with sweat and blood, their breaths steaming in the cold night air. They had done it. They had become the apex predators Mikhailov had promised. The convoy awaited them, engines idling in the distance. As they boarded, Dmitry couldn¡¯t help but notice the way his pack carried themselves. They moved with a confidence born of survival, their bond stronger than ever. Back at the base, the soldiers were greeted with a rare moment of celebration. Word of their success spread quickly, though whispers of something inhuman began to surface. The surviving enemy soldiers¡ªthose too broken to resist¡ªspoke of monsters in the night, creatures that moved with terrifying speed and strength. In his quarters, Dmitry stared at his reflection in the frost-covered window. The amber glow in his eyes had grown brighter, and for a fleeting moment, he wondered what he had truly become. The beast¡¯s reflection appeared beside his, its gaze steady and unyielding. ¡°We¡¯re just getting started,¡± Dmitry murmured, his voice barely audible. The beast rumbled in agreement, a low sound that resonated deep within his chest. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, new battles. But tonight, the Dogs had proven themselves. And the world would never be the same. Chapter 7 : Mastering the Beast The following week passed in a blur of rigorous training and relentless practice. The Dogs had proven their strength on the battlefield, but now they needed to refine it. Captain Mikhailov, ever the taskmaster, had demanded perfection. The pack was not merely a weapon¡ªit was a precision instrument, and every soldier needed to wield their newfound power with control. Dmitry Ivanov took on a role he hadn¡¯t anticipated: mentor. The partial transformation he had achieved during the trials marked him as different, not just stronger but also more attuned to the beast within. The other members of the pack looked to him for guidance, their respect palpable in the way they deferred to his judgment. Each day began before dawn with grueling physical training. The pack¡¯s enhanced bodies were pushed to their limits as they ran obstacle courses, lifted weights far beyond human capability, and sparred in increasingly brutal matches. Dmitry made a point to participate in every activity, leading by example. The beast¡¯s strength flowed through him, but he remained in control, a delicate balance that he constantly worked to maintain. In the afternoons, the focus shifted to harnessing their transformations. Dmitry led the sessions, sharing his experiences with the partial shift. ¡°It¡¯s not about forcing it,¡± he explained, standing before the pack in the cold training yard. ¡°The beast isn¡¯t something you dominate. It¡¯s something you work with. You have to feel it, understand it, and guide it. If you lose control, you¡¯ll become a danger to everyone around you.¡± Yuri, ever the skeptic, raised an eyebrow. ¡°Easier said than done, Dmitry. How do you guide something that feels like it wants to tear everything apart?¡± Dmitry fixed him with a steady gaze. ¡°You don¡¯t fight the rage; you channel it. Use it like a weapon. But never let it use you.¡± The pack practiced in pairs, focusing on triggering minor transformations without fully succumbing to the beast. Dmitry walked among them, offering advice and correcting mistakes. When Pavel¡¯s claws extended too quickly, Dmitry showed him how to retract them with a controlled breath. When Yuri¡¯s muscles tensed uncontrollably, Dmitry guided him through a mental exercise to focus his thoughts. The beast, ever present, watched from the edge of the training yard. Its amber eyes followed every movement, a silent reminder of the power they sought to master. Dmitry often found himself glancing at it, drawing strength from its calm, steady presence. One evening, after hours of exhausting drills, Dmitry called the pack together. The fire pit in the center of the yard crackled and popped, casting flickering shadows on their faces. The weight of the week hung heavy in the air, but so did a newfound sense of camaraderie. ¡°We need to set rules,¡± Dmitry began, his voice firm but not unkind. ¡°This power isn¡¯t just ours to use however we see fit. It¡¯s a responsibility. And if we¡¯re not careful, it could destroy us¡­ or worse, each other.¡± The pack nodded in agreement, their expressions solemn. Dmitry continued, ¡°From this moment on, no one unleashes their full beast form without permission from me, or a leader I have put above you, unless your life or that of your comrades is in unavoidable, immediate, undeniable danger worthy of unleashing the hell on earth that comes from releasing the caged beast, as I have continually pounded into you. Period. We are a team, and we act as one. Remember, you are reasoning with the beast, not fighting it. In full form, it is at least 1000 times more violent, powerful, and terrifying than you can possibly imagine at this time. Do you all understand?¡± Yuri was the first to speak, his voice unusually serious. ¡°Understood. We¡¯re in this together.¡± ¡°Agreed,¡± Pavel added, his tone resolute. The others followed, their affirmations creating a unified resolve. They all stepped back into formation. Dmitry, looking at all of them, yelled even louder, ¡°Do you understand?!¡± All in unison, they chanted back, ¡°Yes, sir!¡± in a powerful moment and a positive signal in the growth, bond, and future of this team. Dmitry felt a surge of pride as he looked around the circle. They weren¡¯t just soldiers; they were a pack.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. As the fire burned low, Dmitry addressed them one final time. ¡°This week has been about learning control. It¡¯s not enough to be strong; we have to be disciplined. The beast isn¡¯t our enemy, but it¡¯s not our friend either. It¡¯s a part of us, and we¡¯ll master it. Together.¡± The pack dispersed into the night, their bodies weary but their spirits steady. Dmitry lingered by the fire, the beast settling beside him. He placed a hand on its massive shoulder, the coarse fur warm under his touch. ¡°They¡¯ll get there,¡± he murmured, more to himself than to the beast. ¡°We all will.¡± The beast rumbled softly, a sound that Dmitry took as agreement. As the stars wheeled overhead, Dmitry allowed himself a rare moment of peace. The path ahead was still fraught with challenges, but for the first time, he felt that they could face it¡ªnot just as soldiers, but as a pack united in purpose and resolve.
The apex of their training that week came with an unexpected event that bound the pack tighter than ever. After a grueling session, the pack gathered around the bonfire to celebrate their progress. The air was thick with the scent of burning wood and the quiet hum of camaraderie. They laughed, exchanged stories, and reveled in their shared transformation. Suddenly, Dmitry stood and roared, ¡°Full form! On me!¡± The command rang out like thunder, and within an instant, Dmitry leapt into the air, his body twisting as his transformation took hold. When he landed, he was no longer a man but a savage wolf¡ªfour feet at the shoulder, his thick, rippling frame a 1000-pound force of primal power. His amber eyes burned with an intensity that silenced even the crackling fire. The pack hesitated for only a heartbeat before their bodies turned, jumped, and morphed into beasts every equal to Dmitry¡¯s size. They were monstrous, terrifying creatures¡ªbeasts equal to the strength and mass of the mighty horses now faced. A distant sound broke the spell: the thunder of hooves. Dmitry¡¯s ears twitched as the massive silhouettes of a wild horse herd appeared on the horizon. It was as if nature itself had sent a challenge. ¡°Tonight, we hunt,¡± Dmitry growled, his voice guttural and commanding. The pack burst into motion, a synchronized blur of muscle and primal instinct. They sprinted into the wild, their full forms granting them speed and strength that turned the ground beneath them into a blur. The chase was a thing of savage beauty. The horses, majestic and powerful, thundered through the fields, their manes glistening under the moonlight. The Dogs, agile and relentless, pursued them with a hunger that was more than physical¡ªit was the beast within, unleashed to claim dominion over the night. Yuri, his massive paws pounding the earth, felt a rush of exhilaration unlike anything he had ever known. ¡°This is what we were made for,¡± he thought, his mind wrestling with admiration for the creatures they pursued and the pride he felt for his pack. Beside him, Pavel¡¯s inner monologue was no less conflicted. ¡°We are hunters, but we must never forget¡­ we are still men.¡± Dmitry, leading the charge, kept his beast in check even as he closed in on the lead stallion. He felt the raw power of the animal beneath him, its fear and strength a mirror of his own. For a moment, the primal side of him longed to succumb, to let the beast claim victory. But with a deep breath, he whispered to the horse, ¡°You are magnificent. Forgive us.¡± The hunt ended with the pack standing in a circle around their quarry. The wild horses, their breaths heavy but unbroken, stood defiant even in capture. Dmitry raised a hand, and the pack stepped back. ¡°No blood tonight,¡± he commanded. ¡°We hunted to bond. And we let them go as a mark of respect for their beauty.¡± The horses galloped away into the darkness, and the pack returned to their fire. The exhilaration of the hunt had given way to a deep, quiet reflection. For the first time, they saw their power not just as a tool of war but as a bridge between their primal instincts and their humanity. And Dmitry, seated once more by the fire, felt the bond of his pack solidify in a way that words could not capture. Far in the shadows, the lone beast that had always lingered watched them, its amber eyes gleaming with an intelligence that hinted at something far more profound. Something in its gaze left Dmitry unsettled yet strangely comforted. The beast was not merely a shadow of their fears; it was something to be understood. The night passed into silence, but the pack¡¯s unity roared like an unyielding flame in their hearts. The horses galloped away into the darkness, and the pack returned to their fire. The exhilaration of the hunt had given way to a deep, quiet reflection. For the first time, they saw their power not just as a tool of war but as a bridge between their primal instincts and their humanity. And Dmitry, seated once more by the fire, felt the bond of his pack solidify in a way that words could not capture. Far in the shadows, the lone beast that had always lingered watched them, its amber eyes gleaming with an intelligence that hinted at something far more profound. Something in its gaze left Dmitry unsettled yet strangely comforted. The beast was not merely a shadow of their fears; it was something to be understood. The night passed into silence, but the pack¡¯s unity roared like an unyielding flame in their hearts. Chapter 8 : Controlled Chaos The morning broke cold and quiet, the Siberian frost clinging to every surface like a shroud. Each breath formed clouds that lingered briefly before dissolving into the frozen air. The barracks felt like a tomb, the oppressive silence punctuated only by the rustle of blankets and the creak of beds as soldiers prepared for the day ahead. Inside the barracks, Dmitry Ivanov sat on the edge of his bunk, tying his boots with deliberate care. Around him, the pack stirred in uneasy silence, their movements reflecting the tension that hung heavy in the air. Today was not a day for drills or training exercises. This was their second real test¡ªdifferent from the chaos of their first deployment. Then, they had relied on raw power to prevail. Now, they faced an enemy with military precision, a challenge that demanded more than brute strength. Captain Mikhailov¡¯s voice shattered the quiet, his boots striking hard against the concrete floor as he entered the room, his presence like a lightning bolt through the tension. He radiated authority, his sharp eyes scanning the room as if measuring the resolve of every man present. ¡°On your feet! Mission briefing in five minutes. Move!¡± The pack scrambled to obey, the sound of their footsteps echoing as they followed Dmitry into the briefing room. The air inside was colder than the barracks, the stark white walls illuminated by the harsh glare of fluorescent lights. At the head of the room, Mikhailov stood beside Dr. Yelena Morozova, whose clipboard was clutched tightly in her hands. Her expression was grim. ¡°We have a situation,¡± Mikhailov began, his tone sharp and commanding. ¡°An allied convoy has been ambushed near the southern border. Enemy forces are holding key personnel in a fortified facility. Your mission: retrieve the hostages and eliminate all opposition.¡± Dmitry exchanged a glance with Yuri and Pavel. This was no training simulation. The stakes were real. The pack¡¯s first deployment had been a test of raw power, a chaotic fight that showcased their newfound strength but little else. They had won that day through sheer force, overwhelming their enemies with brutal efficiency. But this mission demanded something more¡ªprecision, coordination, and control, a chance to prove they were more than unrestrained weapons. Dr. Morozova stepped forward, her voice calm but firm. ¡°Remember your training. The enhancements give you strength and speed, but they can also overwhelm you if you lose focus. The beast is a tool, not a solution. Use it wisely.¡± Dmitry nodded, stepping to the front of the group. ¡°We¡¯re ready. The pack won¡¯t fail.¡±
The team deployed under the cover of darkness, their transport vehicle navigating the dense forest with practiced ease. The trees loomed like sentinels, their branches casting jagged shadows that danced in the dim moonlight. Inside the vehicle, the pack sat in silence, the hum of the engine mingling with the steady rhythm of their breaths as they mentally prepared for the task ahead. The moon hung low in the sky, casting a pale light over the landscape. Dmitry led the way, his senses heightened, every sound and scent sharpening as they approached the target. ¡°Yuri, scout the perimeter. Pavel, you¡¯re with me,¡± Dmitry ordered, his voice low but steady. The pack moved in coordinated silence, their enhanced bodies making even the smallest motions precise. The facility came into view, a sprawling compound surrounded by towering fences and armed guards. Dmitry crouched low, signaling for the pack to halt. He scanned the area, his amber-tinged eyes picking out the faint glow of floodlights and the steady movement of patrols. ¡°Cameras and alarms,¡± Yuri whispered, his fingers working quickly to disable the systems with a small device he had modified during training. ¡°Give me thirty seconds.¡± Dmitry nodded, motioning for the rest of the pack to prepare. As the last camera blinked off, he gave the signal. ¡°Go.¡± They moved as one, slipping through the shadows with inhuman speed. The breach in the fence was narrow, but their enhanced agility made it effortless. Dmitry led them to the nearest building, the scent of fear and sweat growing stronger as they approached.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. The first guards fell silently, their bodies crumpling under the precision of Dmitry¡¯s strikes. He moved like a shadow, each motion calculated and fluid. His claws found weak points in their armor, and the brief flashes of their faces¡ªa mix of shock and fear¡ªfueled his determination to finish quickly and cleanly. Yuri and Pavel handled the others, their movements a blur as they incapacitated the remaining sentries. Inside, the halls were dimly lit, the air thick with the hum of machinery and the faint murmur of voices.
The hostages were held in a secured room at the center of the facility. Dmitry could hear their panicked breathing even before they reached the door. He motioned for Yuri to disable the lock, his claws extending slightly as the tension built. ¡°Stay calm,¡± Dmitry said as the door swung open, revealing a group of frightened men and women huddled together. ¡°We¡¯re here to get you out.¡± Yuri guided the hostages toward the extraction point while Dmitry and Pavel held off the advancing guards. Gunfire erupted, the sharp cracks reverberating through the corridors like a drumbeat of chaos. The sound mixed with the shouts of the guards and the heavy thuds of bodies hitting the ground. Dmitry¡¯s pulse quickened, the beast within clawing for release, but he steadied himself with each deliberate step forward, striking with deadly precision. Dmitry¡¯s heart pounded as he fought to control the beast clawing at the edges of his mind. He needed its strength but not its rage. The battle was brutal, each guard more desperate than the last. Dmitry moved with deadly efficiency, his claws tearing through armor and weapons alike. Pavel fought beside him, his knife flashing as he disarmed and disabled their attackers. ¡°Last wave,¡± Pavel muttered, his breathing ragged. ¡°Let¡¯s finish this.¡± Dmitry nodded, his focus narrowing as the final guards charged. The moment seemed to stretch, the cacophony of the fight fading into a tunnel of instinct. His claws extended fully, gleaming in the dim corridor light, but he refused to let the beast take over. The first guard lunged with a desperate cry, firing wildly. Dmitry sidestepped with inhuman speed, his claws slicing cleanly through the rifle barrel. His other hand swept upward, catching the guard¡¯s chest with a force that sent him sprawling to the ground, motionless. A second guard closed in, this one wielding a combat knife, his face twisted in determination. Dmitry met the attack head-on, parrying the blade with his claws before spinning low and sweeping the guard¡¯s legs from beneath him. The man hit the floor hard, his weapon skittering away as Dmitry ended the threat with a calculated blow to the head. Behind him, Pavel grappled with two guards at once, their combined weight nearly driving him to the ground. With a guttural roar, Pavel surged upward, hurling one guard into the wall while delivering a sharp jab to the other¡¯s throat. He turned, panting, as Dmitry felled the final attacker with a devastating strike that left claw marks raked across the man¡¯s armor. The hallway fell silent but for the sound of their ragged breathing and the faint hum of the facility¡¯s failing lights. Dmitry straightened, his claws retracting as the beast¡¯s presence faded into the recesses of his mind. He looked to Pavel, whose face was streaked with blood¡ªnone of it his own. ¡°That¡¯s all of them,¡± Dmitry said, his voice low but steady. Pavel wiped his brow and nodded. ¡°For now. Let¡¯s hope Yuri¡¯s got the hostages clear.¡± Dmitry gestured for Pavel to follow as they moved swiftly toward the extraction point, their senses still heightened, ready for any lingering threats. This battle was won, but Dmitry knew the fight within¡ªagainst the beast and the chaos it promised¡ªwas far from over.
The pack regrouped at the extraction point, their mission complete. The hostages were safe, the enemy neutralized, and the facility left in ruins. As they boarded the transport vehicle, Dmitry couldn¡¯t help but notice the way his pack carried themselves. They moved with a confidence born of survival, their bond stronger than ever. Back at the base, Captain Mikhailov awaited them, his expression unreadable as they filed into the debriefing room. The air here was thick with the smell of sweat and faint gunpowder, lingering reminders of the battle they had just left behind. Mikhailov¡¯s gaze was piercing, searching each soldier¡¯s face as though weighing their worth anew. ¡°Mission accomplished. The hostages are secure, and the enemy¡¯s operations have been crippled. Well done.¡± The pack¡¯s faces reflected both relief and exhaustion. Dmitry stood at the front, his amber eyes meeting Mikhailov¡¯s. ¡°We proved something tonight,¡± he said, his voice steady despite the weight of the mission. ¡°We can control this. We can be more than weapons. We can be a team.¡± Mikhailov¡¯s gaze softened slightly. ¡°You¡¯ve taken your first step. But remember, this is only the beginning.¡± As the pack dispersed, Dmitry lingered in the dimly lit room. The beast within him was quiet for now, but he knew it wouldn¡¯t stay that way. Resting his hand on the shoulder of the hulking creature that had accompanied them, he whispered, ¡°This is just the start. We¡¯ll face whatever comes next. Together.¡± Chapter 9 : Global Ripples The whispers began as faint murmurs in backroom briefings and shadowy intelligence reports. Stories of "over-roided super-soldiers" with inhuman speed and strength filtered out from the snowy battlefields of Eastern Europe, carried by survivors too broken to lie. They spoke of creatures that moved like men but struck with the force of monsters, their eyes glowing faintly in the night. The accounts came not just from soldiers but from terrified civilians who spoke of fleeting shadows moving with impossible grace, leaving behind devastation that defied explanation. It wasn¡¯t long before these rumors reached the ears of powerful nations, and with them came a growing sense of dread¡ªnot merely at the strength of these soldiers, but at what they represented: the beginning of a new kind of warfare.
Washington, D.C. In the heart of the Pentagon, General Marcus Bryant leaned over a conference table littered with satellite images and declassified reports. His steely eyes narrowed as he studied the grainy photographs of a smoldering compound, the bodies of enemy combatants strewn across the snow like discarded dolls. The air in the room was heavy, laced with the sharp scent of stale coffee and tension. "This isn¡¯t just some propaganda piece," he said, his gravelly voice cutting through the tense silence. "Whatever the Russians have cooked up, it¡¯s real. And it¡¯s dangerous." "With all due respect, General," said Director Claire Novak of the CIA, her voice calm but edged with skepticism, "these accounts come from terrified prisoners of war. How much of it can we trust?" Bryant¡¯s fist came down hard on the table, rattling the scattered files. "Enough. The pattern is too consistent to ignore. Enhanced strength, inhuman reflexes, a pack of soldiers tearing through a fortified position without backup or heavy artillery? They¡¯re testing something¡ªand it¡¯s working." The room fell silent except for the soft hum of a projector displaying infrared footage of an obliterated outpost. Novak sighed, her fingers tapping a nervous rhythm against her chair. "If this is true, we need eyes on the ground. Covert operatives, not just drones." "Already working on it," Bryant replied. His voice was steel, but the weight of his words pressed into every corner of the room. "But if they¡¯re this far ahead, we¡¯ve got catching up to do. And fast."
Beijing, China In a subterranean war room beneath Zhongnanhai, Chairman Lin Wei presided over a meeting with his top military advisors. The cold light of the monitors illuminated the faces around the table, each etched with grim determination. General Wu Qiang gestured to a map peppered with red markers, his voice clipped and precise. "Our operatives report that the Russian program, codename ¡®Dogs,¡¯ has entered an advanced phase," Wu began. "Their soldiers are not just enhanced¡ªthey are engineered." Chairman Lin¡¯s expression remained impassive, but the furrowing of his brow betrayed his concern. "Engineered for what?" Wu hesitated. "Domination. The implications are clear: they intend to tip the balance of power." The words hung in the air like a blade poised to fall. Finally, Lin spoke, his tone measured but firm. "Accelerate our own projects. Bring in every asset, every mind. If the Russians wish to reshape warfare, we will not be left behind." As the meeting adjourned, Lin lingered, his gaze fixed on the glowing markers. He couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that they were on the precipice of something far larger than a mere arms race.
Berlin, Germany Chancellor Erika Falk stood before a gathering of NATO leaders, her voice steady but urgent. The flicker of candlelight from a nearby chandelier cast long shadows across the room, amplifying the gravity of her words. "We cannot dismiss these reports as mere exaggerations," she said, gesturing to the dossier in front of her. "The Russian program poses a threat not only to their adversaries but to global stability. If unchecked, it will force us all to escalate our efforts." The French President, Pierre Marchand, leaned back in his chair, his expression skeptical. "And what do you propose, Erika? That we begin experimenting on our own soldiers? We¡¯ve all seen how these programs end."Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. Falk¡¯s gaze hardened. "I propose unity. If we fail to respond collectively, we will face them alone¡ªand we will lose." The room fell silent, the weight of her words settling over the assembled leaders. Slowly, heads began to nod, a grim acknowledgment of the path ahead. The air, thick with unspoken fear, carried the heavy scent of inevitability.
Moscow, Russia Captain Mikhailov stood before a council of high-ranking officials in the Kremlin. The air was thick with smoke and tension as he detailed the success of the Dog Pack¡¯s latest mission. "The pack performed beyond expectations," Mikhailov reported, his voice steady. "Their efficiency was unmatched, their control precise. They are the future of warfare." One of the officials, a hawkish man with a thin mustache, leaned forward. "And the whispers? The reports leaking to the West?" Mikhailov¡¯s jaw tightened. "Unavoidable. But let them whisper. Let them fear. It only cements our position as the dominant power." The room erupted in low murmurs of approval. But Mikhailov felt a pang of unease. He had seen the pack¡¯s transformations up close, had felt the raw, barely contained chaos that lurked beneath their disciplined exterior. They were powerful, yes, but they were also unpredictable. And unpredictability, he knew, could destroy even the most carefully laid plans.
A Brewing Storm The whispers grew louder, spreading through intelligence agencies, military commands, and political circles like wildfire. Each nation interpreted the reports differently, but all reached the same conclusion: the rules of war were changing, and no one could afford to be left behind. For Dmitry and his pack, the world outside their barracks was becoming a dangerous place. They were no longer just soldiers¡ªthey were symbols, pawns in a global game of brinkmanship. The Dog Pack had grown infamous, their missions a mix of brutal efficiency and terrifying unpredictability. Tales spread of their surgical precision in raids on enemy compounds, where Dmitry''s leadership turned chaos into orchestrated destruction. But not every mission was smooth; the primal rage of the Dogs occasionally flared, leaving unintended devastation in their wake. One such incident haunted Dmitry still. During a night raid that required cooperation among dog packs in an isolated research facility, a young recruit, barely through his first transformation, lost control. His unchecked fury resulted in the obliteration of the target¡ªand the loss of crucial intelligence. In the end, a fellow recruit followed code and had to put him down. Dmitry''s squad had no issues and encircled the second cadet as it got itself under control post-killing. Dmitry had a relatively easy time using his lock skill to bring the other squadmates under control as feral hormones rippled through the ranks. But the incident left scars¡ªnot only on the pack but on Dmitry himself, as a leader forced to make impossible choices. Beyond the battlefield, something else shadowed Dmitry. On rare nights, when the barracks fell silent and his enhanced senses attuned to the faintest disturbances, he would sense the other creature. It was never close, but its presence was undeniable. Once, he had caught a fleeting glimpse¡ªa hulking figure silhouetted against the moonlight, its eyes gleaming with a strange intelligence. It never attacked, never approached, yet it seemed to follow him, a silent observer in the snowy wilderness. Its presence gnawed at the edges of Dmitry¡¯s mind, a question he could neither answer nor ignore. The team¡¯s successes brought attention, but also tension. Dmitry felt the weight of the world''s gaze bearing down on them, magnified by his unease about the creature that lingered at the edges of his awareness. The pack¡¯s evolution was far from complete, and Dmitry knew that whatever lay ahead¡ªon the battlefield or in the shadows¡ªwould test them all in ways they could not yet imagine. Their missions grew increasingly complex, ranging from covert infiltrations of enemy labs to large-scale assaults on fortified outposts. In one particularly harrowing operation, the Dog Pack was tasked with securing a remote Arctic research station rumored to house advanced AI prototypes. The biting cold and hostile environment tested even their enhanced capabilities. Dmitry led the charge, his claws slicing through fortified doors while his pack held the perimeter. They found the station abandoned but riddled with traps¡ªa desperate ploy to stall the Dogs. As they extracted the prototypes, Dmitry once again felt the creature¡¯s presence outside the station. This time, its shadow lingered longer, almost as if it were studying them. The whispers of the creature began to merge with the rumors of the Dog Pack itself, creating a mythos that only fueled global paranoia. For Dmitry, the questions remained: was it a specter of his own making, or something more tangible¡ªa remnant of the program, perhaps, or a harbinger of what the Dogs might become? On the most frigid nights, Dmitry found himself drawn outside the barracks, wandering through the snow-covered wilderness where the creature seemed to roam. He couldn¡¯t explain the compulsion¡ªit was as if the presence called to him, pulling at a thread deep within his soul. Each encounter, though fleeting, left him shaken. The creature moved with deliberate grace, its amber eyes locking onto Dmitry''s with an intensity that felt almost... familiar. Yet, each time, it disappeared into the shadows before he could approach. And on the coldest of those nights, something else stirred in the shadows beyond. Dmitry could not name it, but it whispered to him in fragments¡ªsoft, almost imperceptible voices that seemed to ripple through the air. They carried no words he understood, only a haunting cadence that filled him with both dread and an unexplainable yearning. Later, he would recall these moments as the first signs of what others would come to call the NightShades, though in those moments, they were nothing more than whispers on the icy wind.