Little Iza was increasingly worried about her mother. Despite being just a little girl, she didn't understand many things in this world. Since the day she was born, she, her mother and her aunt lived in hiding, because for them the world was too dangerous a place. Precarious conditions were part of their routine from an early age.
The three of them wandered around the kingdom, always living in the worst areas, in the dark areas of the slums. Iza had a strong desire to help her family, but being so young, there was little she could do.
She once said to her mother:
— Mother, why don't we ask some powerful lord for protection? Why do we have to live like this, hiding like stinking rats?
— Mom, why are we persecuted, tortured and expelled? Why can't I have friends to play with?
— Mom? Aunt?
Over the years, the questions only grew louder. At first, her mother would not answer, just smile and try to change the subject. But in recent years, her illness had worsened, and the time she had left was dwindling. Little by little, she began to reveal the harsh truths of the world to prepare Iza for the dark future of her race.
— Izabela , daughter... we are a race without a future. I don't know how many still exist, maybe it's just the three of us, the last ones.
— You are my most precious possession, so you must be very careful. Always remember my words and obey your aunt.
— Forgive your mother for not being able to give you what you deserve. I am fragile, sick and unable to survive.
Every conversation between mother and daughter was filled with tears, with words conveyed of sadness, regret and melancholy. One day, the mother spilled the whole truth: how their father died to cover them up and how they were chased wherever they went.
Once upon a time, in the werewolf family, before little Iza was born, her father, still alive and well, decided to seek refuge in Evans' territory. However, an influential figure was enchanted by Iza's mother's beauty and wanted to take her as his toy.
The werewolves evolved without the path to power that best suited their race, which prevented them from fully evolving and protecting themselves. With the help of a stranger, the father managed to escape with Iza's mother, but he had to sacrifice himself by choosing an alternative path of evolution to ensure the safety of his family. Although successful, this choice cut his life short. A few years later, he died, leaving behind his wife and unborn daughter.
After Iza's birth, her mother had chosen the same path to protect herself, but now her life was running out as well. The three of them decided to travel to the territory of Venhorst , a place where they could perhaps find safety—but they trusted no one.
The bones of the werewolf race are a rare and priceless ingredient. In the rituals of evolution, those who use the blood and bones of werewolves increase their chances by about 30%; for those who follow the path of darkness, the chance rises to 40%. For this reason, the value of a werewolf is extremely high — and the persecution against them, relentless, wherever they are.
Today was a very difficult day for Iza. Her mother had an attack of the disease, and the little girl's heart sank—there was no medicine in the cabin. Against her mother's wishes, Iza decided to do what she always did at such times: steal money or medicine.
In the square, she saw two middle-class boys being cheated by the merchants. One of them, generously, offered his fruit to an old woman and her granddaughter, which left Iza even more frustrated — while her mother was dying for lack of medicine, two street urchins were wasting money without thinking.
Determined to help, Iza used a trick that always worked: she stole one of the boys' purses and ran off happily. When she went through the purse, she found some copper and silver coins and a strange ring. She kept the ring secretly in the cabin before selling the purse and using the money to buy medicine for her mother, a good meal and save some for her family.
But, unfortunately for Iza, on the way back, she crossed paths with the two boys again — and was chased until she was captured in an alley.
Once upon a time, the werewolf family, before little Iza was born, her father still alive and well, decided to seek refuge in Evans' territory. However, an influential figure was enchanted by Iza's mother's beauty and wanted to take her as his toy.
The werewolves had lost the path to power that best suited their race, which prevented them from fully evolving and protecting themselves. With the help of a stranger, the father managed to escape with Iza's mother, but he had to sacrifice himself by choosing an alternative path of evolution to ensure the safety of his family. Although successful, this choice cut his life short. A few years later, he died, leaving behind his wife and unborn daughter.
After Iza's birth, her mother had chosen the same path to protect herself, but now her life was running out as well. The three of them decided to travel to the Venhorst territory , a place where they could perhaps find safety—but they trusted no one.
The bones of the werewolf race are a rare and priceless ingredient. In the rituals of evolution, those who use the blood and bones of werewolves increase their chances by about 30%; for those who follow the path of darkness, the chance rises to 40%. For this reason, the value of a werewolf is extremely high — and the persecution against them, relentless, wherever they are.
Today was a very difficult day for Iza. Her mother had an attack of the disease, and the little girl's heart sank—there was no medicine in the cabin. Against her mother's wishes, Iza decided to do what she always did at such times: steal money or medicine.
In the square, she saw two middle-class boys being cheated by the merchants. One of them, generously, offered his fruit to an old woman and her granddaughter, which left Iza even more frustrated — while her mother was dying for lack of medicine, two street urchins were wasting money without thinking.
Determined to help, Iza used a trick that always worked: she stole one of the boys' purses and ran off happily. When she went through the purse, she found some copper and silver coins and a strange ring. She kept the ring secretly in the cabin before selling the purse and using the money to buy medicine for her mother, a good meal and save some for her family.
But, unfortunately for Iza, on the way back, she crossed paths with the two boys again — and was chased until she was captured in an alley.
In Iza's mind, the boy in front of her was a terrible being—a pervert, a villain from bad stories who does horrible things to beautiful, cute girls like her. She remembered her aunt's warnings and felt a deep fear.
Her aunt always warned her: "If a man calls himself 'this lord', 'this chief', 'this king' or anything like that, beware. Such people are perverts with strange tastes, they will bully even a little girl who has not yet blossomed." And the boy in front of her called himself "this young lord". Fear.
John was confused. How could such an energetic, mischievous, and defiant girl suddenly turn into a shy, scaredy-cat? He wondered if he had overdone it in his playfulness.
— What do you want to do with me? — the wolf girl asked, her voice trembling, on the verge of tears.
John's confusion only grew when he saw such vulnerable behavior. He began to imagine himself as a villain, bullying a little girl. Not knowing what to do, he tried to change the focus.
"What do you have in that bag?" he asked with a smile, trying to sound as friendly as possible.
Hearing the question, Iza clutched the bag tightly, even more nervous. Her voice came out low and shaky.
— Re ... remedies and medicinal plants.
"Why did you steal these medicines and plants?" John asked, almost regretting the question. But it seemed to work, because the girl, who looked like she was about to cry, straightened her posture and answered, full of pride.
— I didn't steal it! I bought it honestly.
As soon as she said this, she lowered her head, blushing in embarrassment. The money she used to buy the medicine came from theft—it didn't really belong to her.
— My mother needs them. I'll take them to her.
Iza threw the bag at John and tried to run, tears streaming down her face. But John held the bag with one hand and her arm with the other, preventing her from escaping.
The girl looked at him, full of anger, and said...
— What do you want now?
John didn't respond immediately. Instead, he placed the bag back in the girl's hands with a gentle gesture.
— Doesn't your mother need these medicines and plants? Why are you giving them to me , then?
Iza blinked, confused. The coldness she had expected to find was gone. John was already beginning to put together the puzzle of that story: she had stolen to save her sick mother.
— I'm John, and this is Alex. What's your name?
He said it in such a calm, human voice that it broke down the girl's barrier. That voice... it made her remember times that she didn't even know if they really existed.
— My name is Isabela... but my aunt calls me Iza.
— Okay, Iza. You can take the medicine and the plants to your mother. I just need you to give me back the ring that was in the bag. The rest... you can keep.
Iza stared at him in silence. It was the first time a stranger had spoken her name kindly. Until now, only her mother and aunt had called her that. To the world, she was just "the thief," "the medal," "the wolf girl." That made her chest tighten.
Remembering the ring—which, in her mind, was barely worth a gold coin—she lowered her head.
— I... don't have it now.
- All good.
John's voice was soft. He reached out his hand toward her. Iza, startled, closed her eyes, expecting a slap. But what came was the unexpected warmth of a hand stroking her silver hair. The gesture caught her completely off guard.
John felt a pang of nostalgia. It had been a long time since he had done that. The ring, to him, didn't mean much—Fernando had given it to him casually, saying only, "Use this if you have any problems." John hadn't given it much thought.
— Alex , let's go.
They turned to leave, but before they could take the first step, a voice reached them.
— Wait...
John turned around. The girl's expression was still hesitant, but now there was something different in her eyes.
— What's wrong, Iza?
She spoke softly, almost as if she was apologizing to the wind:
— The ring... I kept it. I can give it back to you.
—Really? — John asked, raising an eyebrow.
Little Iza hesitated for a moment, her eyes wavering as if she were calculating something. Then she answered:
— If you come with me... I 'll give it back as soon as we get home.
— Alright. Let's go then.
Iza hugged the bag tightly to her chest, as if protecting her heart. She walked ahead with short, silent steps, and the two boys followed close behind. The path took them deeper and deeper into the forgotten bowels of the city.
Wooden houses gave way to ramshackle shacks, surrounded by caked mud and clothes hanging on makeshift clotheslines. The air smelled musty and abandoned, and every step felt like entering a world the rest of the city preferred to ignore.
— Do you live here? — John asked, surprised.
— Yes... our cabin is right there. — Iza replied , casting a melancholic look around.
They walked a few more meters until they stopped in front of a miserable-looking hut, with crooked walls and a roof covered with patched cloth. It was, at most, about twenty feet square—and even that seemed generous.
Before John could take another step, Alex reached out and stopped him.
— Wait... something 's wrong.
His eyes were fixed on the cabin, serious. He turned to the girl and asked:
— Iza... how many people live here with you?
— Just my mother, my aunt and I. — he replied, not understanding the reason for the question.
Alex frowned and took a long sniff of the air.
— I smell seven people... Two arrived recently, with a scent just like Iza's. The other five are human. They're all in there.
Two voices echoed at the same time, astonished:
— Humans?
— Humans?
John and Iza smelled it too. Though their senses weren't as sharp as Alex's, the unmistakable scent was there—thick, heavy, out of place. It was like finding expensive perfume in the middle of a dumpster.
Iza's face lost its color. On impulse, she tried to run towards the cabin.
But John was faster.
He held her arm firmly, stopping her.
— No! — he said , looking into her eyes. — It could be a trap.
— We don't know anything yet. We can't act without thinking. — John whispered firmly.
— But... — Iza tried to speak, but he raised his hand, asking for silence.
— First, we need information. Any misstep could cost us dearly. — he said , turning to Alex. — Can you figure out anything else?
Alex closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath.
— They are quiet. Standing, each one in a corner. They are... waiting .
"Waiting?" John muttered, frowning. His eyes swept around the cabin, taking in every miserable detail of the place.
He thought out loud, articulating his deductions:
— They didn't come to steal. This cabin has nothing of value. No decent furniture. Nothing worth risking. They came for the people. And if they're waiting... it's because they haven't caught who they want yet.
John stared at Iza, his sharp mind connecting the loose ends of the situation.
— They are waiting for you.
As soon as he finished speaking, little Iza's body shook like a leaf shaken by the wind. Panic took over. She knew this kind of terror. It had happened before. Only this time, her mother was too injured to protect them. This time… there was no hope.
— Po ... po ... please ... — he stammered , his voice fading into thin air.
She clutched John's robes with both her small hands, her blue eyes filled with tears, pleading.
— John... please save my mother... and my aunt...
— Save them...
The words came out between sobs, interrupted by despair.
— If you save them... I swear I will serve you. I will do whatever you say. I will be your servant, your shadow... your everything, if need be. You are a young lord, aren't you? You... need servants, don't you? Then accept me as one. Just... please ... save my family...
She could no longer think. Only feel. Only beg. Like a cornered animal about to lose everything.
John stared at her for a moment. Those wet eyes, that fragile voice... he found himself, for a moment, looking at his own sister—the memory of another time, another life. He stroked her silver hair gently. There was tenderness in his touch. But also a silent promise.
"Don't worry," he said , with the serenity of someone who knows the weight of what he is about to face. "We will do everything in our power to save them."
He looked at Alex, and there, without words, a plan began to form.
What John didn't say—what he didn't even let on—is that if push came to shove, he would run. Without hesitation.
He wasn't a martyr, never had been. And he definitely wouldn't risk his own life to save complete strangers.
Little Iza brought back an old memory, the soft figure of his younger sister—but that was all. At most, if it were possible, he would save the girl. And, with luck, maybe his family. But if the risk was too great… then there would be no doubt. He would choose to survive.
As they walked in silence, his thoughts grew thicker and thicker. John began to regret having gone this far. He knew almost nothing about the situation. Who were the men in the cabin? What was the real reason for the silent recording? How many were armed? Was there a bigger plan at work?
His mind was buzzing with unanswered questions. But then, rational as ever, he pondered: if it weren't for them—him and Alex—Iza's family would already be doomed.
At least now, there was a chance .
His father's words echoed in his mind, memories of a hard day of training:
"Only when their bodies reach their peak will they be ready to cross the line. And on the other side, the world will change forever."
Both he and Alex were ready for the ritual of evolution. He could feel it in his blood, in his skin, in his bones. Their sophisticated bodies were refined to the limit. Strength, speed, and heightened senses—combined with their racial traits—made them lethal predators.
If on the other side of the cabin were just ordinary humans... or even silver mercenaries, it would still be easy. Since none of them had evolved yet. Since there was no primal being among them...
João did the math. He weighed the risks, evaluated the variables, and tested scenarios in his mind with the coolness of a strategist. In the end, he opted for a simple plan—straightforward, functional—but he still wanted Alex's opinion. Not out of courtesy. But out of strategy. If something went wrong, it wouldn't just be his life at risk. It would be Alex's too.
He needed to make sure his friend was ready for this to happen.
John stopped, turned his body slightly and called in a low but firm tone:
— Alex.