Break-in

'Wait, what?'

<Bond >

"It's ok son, whatever happens, I'll always love you."

'Yes'

<2 5 slots used>

"Lest I forget, your room needs baptism and... "

With the system notification came a new sensation. He could now see a green mist over her head as a scent caught his nose. Releasing his mom, he watched as she stepped out of the house, the mist getting fainter the further she got.

He decided to check his stats if he gained any <exp > from the practice today.

<Name: Scott McCall (Werewolf: Inactive )>

<Class: [First evolution required]>

<Level: 5 (45%)>

<hp: 140>

<Energy: 55>

<Strength: 15>

<Agility:13 >

<Endurance: 16>

<Intelligence: 30>

<Charm: 10>

<Luck: 5>

Staring at the panel for a while, he concluded. Just like in games, the higher you go, the harder it is to level up because he needed more <exp > to get to the next level. The problem now was how to gain <exp >, get stronger and protect his family. He could go hunting, but that had now seemed fruitless. The more he hunted a particular creature... animal, the less <exp > he gained.

He could become a vigilante and hunt down criminals at night, but he didn't want to go down that path. He would be putting his family at risk should his identity be exposed. He rubbed his furrowed forehead as he felt a headache making a breakthrough.

"Oh my, I have a meeting with Stiles."

He finished his tea and couldn't help but hum at how satisfying and relaxing it was. He would ask his mom to teach him how to make such tea, he thought.

***

As he entered his room, he was immediately struck by the sense of chaos and disarray. The space was cluttered with piles of clothes, sports equipment, and assorted junk, giving the impression that this is a space where function trumps form. The walls were adorned with posters of sports heroes, music bands, and movies, showcasing the Scott's interests and hobbies.

The centrepiece of the room was a large bed, unmade and covered with clothes and miscellaneous items. The bedding itself was a mix of solid colours or bold patterns, reflecting his style. A desk or table was present, and a laptop with textbooks, notebooks, and writing utensils scattered around, indicating a place where schoolwork was done begrudgingly.

In one corner, there was a weight set or exercise equipment, revealing his focus on physical fitness.

The air in the room was a mix of scents - sweat, cologne, and even a hint of fast food and energy drinks. Overall, the room was a reflection of the teenage boy who inhabited it.

His mother's voice rang in his head as he walked over the junk pile to his desk and turned on his computer. A screen popped up showing the app name *Flash*, a distant relative of the meeting app *zoom*. He saw a meeting invite and without a hint of hesitation, clicked on it.

Scott and Stiles sat cross-legged on their respective beds, their eyes glued to the laptop screen in front of them.

Scott leaned back against his chair, a look of guilt on his face. "Did you find out about Jackson?" he asked a hint of sadness in his voice. Stiles nodded in response.

"So what did you find out?"

"Well it's bad, he's got a dislocated shoulder." came Stiles' response.

"Will he be able to play?" Scott asked bringing his face close to the screen, worry evident in his tone as he slumped his back looking at the wooden floor.

"Well, we don't know yet. But everyone's counting on us for the game coming up next weekend."

Silence filled the room and as Scott looked back up, he saw his friend looking at him intensely and moving forward as if wanting to enter the screen. Frowning at his absurd behaviour, Enibs asked

"What?"

Looking back at his reflection on the screen, Scott realised his friend wasn't looking at him but rather behind him. He turned around as someone picked him up by the collar, dragged him across the room and slammed his face on the wall, pinning him against it. While all the commotion was happening, Stiles who didn't know what was going on, hung up in a panic.

<-20 hp>

"I saw what you did on the field", came Derek Hale's voice.

"What are you talking about?" Stiles asked in a panic trying his best to get out of the grip.

"You shifted in front of them. Maybe I didn't tell you before, but now I am. If they find out what you are, they find out what I am and find out what we are, I won't hesitate to come after you. Because it won't just be the hunters coming after us, it's everyone." Derek whispered into his ear in a thick, monotone manner that made it seem like a low ferocious growl.

"I promise, no one saw anything... and they won't."

"That better be the case, because if you even try to play the game next weekend, I won't wait till they come after you. I would kill you myself."

The next moment, the grip and pressure on his back reduced enough for him to turn around, but before he could,

"It's for your own good. You don't wanna go through what I did."

He turned around to meet a Derek-less room. Looking around in fear he saw the spiderweb-like inscriptions where his head had come in contact with the wall.

Checking his health, he saw that it was at its maximum, at the risk of his energy, which had been reduced by 4 points. This for starters, showed either how weak he was or just how strong Derek was. The latter he believed, was the answer. He needed to get stronger, he knew that from the beginning and the recent event further showed the reason why.

A/N:

Sorry for the late update. If you're reading this, it shows how much you enjoy the story. Be a real fan and supporter and throw stones my way. Also open to suggestion in the comments section. Leave reviews and let new readers know what to expect from the story.

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