12

Combat and tests of will ultimately come down to one simple element: morale. The specters of fear and uncertainty wear down the will of even the most ironclad fighter, bringing them to their knees, defeated in mind rather than body.

A solid reputation as an invincible warrior, a wound healing as soon as it is inflicted…these are tools that can decide a wolf's victory before they ever set foot in the arena.

It doesn't take long to find a stairwell, and you bound up the steps several at a time. Faster and safer than being stuck in an elevator, you think to yourself as your arcing leap takes you all the way to the landing between floors.

You reach a door labeled with a large white 3 and hold your breath, listening for humans before you dare to enter the building. You count two individual voices engaged in polite conversation drifting down the hall.

You risk raising an eye to the thin vertical rectangle of glass above the door handle and you just catch the backs of two humans dressed in nursing scrubs turning into a side room and closing the door behind them.

You listen for another moment to be sure you'll have the hallway to yourself before opening the door and exiting the stairwell.

Next

Two hallways run parallel down the length of the third floor of the medical building, each flanked by doors to treatment rooms. The air has a strange, uncomfortable, tingly feeling to it and you raise your snout up, lupine nostrils sniffing reflexively as you attempt to pin down the origin of the offending aroma.

How can the humans stand working in here day in and day out with such an odor? Shaking your head and putting discomfort out of your mind for the moment, you concentrate on locating a room with a large metal door as described by Lonan after he experienced the effects of the drug.

Locating your goal doesn't take very long, and you're lucky enough that no doctors or nurses walk into the hallway as you search. There's only one room in the hall with a metal door, and it's conspicuously labeled with a small plaque: Werewolf Immunity Studies. You pull the small silver latch to open the door. You look back and forth down the hall to make certain you remain unobserved as you close the door behind you.

The room is frigid, and you shiver despite yourself, even with your thick coat of fur. It doesn't take long to locate the syringes, a line of which are kept unlabeled in a cold storage cabinet. The devices are well constructed and heavy-duty with a plastic sleeve covering the needle. A trick of the eye makes the fluid inside almost glow with a radiant blue hue.

It sends a shiver down your spine, whether from fear or excitement you're not entirely sure.

Here goes nothing, you think to yourself as you carefully inject the needle into a vein in your left arm.

Your breath catches in your throat, and you can feel your heart racing. As your vision begins to swim, you grab a nearby table to steady yourself, nearly falling to the floor.

Closing your eyes to ward off dizziness, you can feel your body changing, as though your very physiology is being overwritten. It's impossible to tell just how long it is before you can open your eyes again. Was it five minutes or several hours?

You look out the room's small window and breathe a sigh of relief. Judging by the position of the sun, you guess you only lost about twenty to thirty minutes.

You flex your arm and stretch your legs. It's subtle, but you feel somehow more capable, like you could run for hours without dropping in exhaustion. You should keep an eye out for any negative side effects, but for now you feel fantastic.

Escaping the building is almost as easy as it was to break in, although in your overconfidence you nearly blunder into a trio of doctors wandering the first floor hall.

You sneak out the same way you came in, the odor in the garage thick with gasoline fumes. Feeling somewhat lightheaded, you stumble into the nearest shadowed alley between buildings where you shake off the effects of the fumes.

Next

Looking up at the sun, you realize with a start that you're almost late for your rendezvous with your friends at the massive warehouse to the east. Any other areas you hoped to explore will have to wait for subsequent adventures.

The warehouse is situated on the far eastern end of the complex, and while it doesn't eclipse many other buildings in terms of height, it positively dwarfs them in girth. From north to south, the giant building covers the better part of a half mile, its spartan exterior winking dully in the light of the slowly setting sun.

You find your companions right where they're supposed to be, patiently waiting for you to arrive by the southeast corner, hidden among a cluster of rusted barrels whose contents have long since been drained away by the humans' machinery.

Tiva fidgets anxiously while Dena's head swivels left and right as though she expects the group to be discovered at any moment.

"So, one last bit of exploration before we throw in the towel?" Lapu says, nodding toward a small door on the eastern side of the warehouse. "It's way too late to chicken out, guys."

Not that you would; the warehouse is the subject of many and varied tales among the werewolf youth, all of which are exciting and mysterious. Claims of vast wealth, macabre horrors, and experimental weapons are just the tip of the popular speculation iceberg.

The worst part is that the adults have been here and refuse to tell you what's inside. What better reason could there be for a group of wolves on the verge of adulthood to sneak in and have a look? It's time to discuss your plan to get in and explore without getting caught.