Chapter 2: "Scott McCall’s abilities (Part 1)"

The sunlight streaming through the window was sharper than usual, almost painfully bright. Scott winced, his eyes squeezing shut as a wave of pain washed over him. His head throbbed, like someone was trying to hammer information directly into his brain. He rubbed his temples, trying to will the headache away, but the pressure only seemed to grow stronger. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat sending jolts of energy through his veins. This was no ordinary headache.

He could feel it—the surge of knowledge pouring into him. Information about his new powers, his body, his very existence. Everything felt like it was on fast-forward, as if someone had hit the play button on an endless loop of data, and now it was flooding his mind all at once.

Scott staggered back, collapsing onto his bed with a groan, clutching his head in his hands.

*"This…this is a lot,"* he muttered under his breath, grimacing through the pain.

Images flashed before his eyes—memories that weren't his, instincts he'd never had before. He saw himself lifting cars with ease, sprinting across forests faster than the wind, his senses so heightened that he could hear every heartbeat within a hundred-meters radius. His mind buzzed with possibilities, each one more exhilarating than the last. This was it—his cheat, his *advantage*.

"As a traveler, I guess this is my cheat," he muttered through the pain, managing a wry smile. "And it's awesome…"

The headache began to ease, leaving behind a strange clarity. The flood of information slowed, settling into his mind, like puzzle pieces locking into place. He sat up, his breathing steadying as the new reality sunk in. He wasn't just Scott McCall—he was an *overpowered* Scott McCall.

"Although I have the knowledge of all my powers," he continued, talking to himself as if saying it out loud would make it even more real, "I have to master them first and keep getting stronger."

He rose from the bed and stood in the middle of the room, his bare feet pressing into the soft carpet. Every muscle in his body felt *different*—stronger, more alive. He closed his eyes for a moment, focusing inward, trying to sense the powers lying dormant within him.

The first thing he noticed was the strength. It radiated from him like an invisible force, coiled tightly in every fiber of his being. Scott clenched his fists, feeling the surge of raw power in his hands. He wasn't just strong; he was capable of lifting *tons*. His strength didn't just come from his arms—it extended down into his legs, through every inch of his body. He could crush metal with his bare hands, leap across rooftops with ease.

"Superhuman strength," he said to himself, letting the words hang in the air, testing them. "I could probably throw a car if I wanted to." He smirked.

Scott let out a breath, the smirk still on his face as he moved on to the next power.

*Superhuman speed.* The knowledge settled in his mind like second nature. He didn't even need to think about it—his body already knew what to do. He could run so fast, it would be nearly impossible for the human eye to track him. He could move faster than any creature in this world, faster than anything *should* be able to move. The idea sent a thrill through him. He imagined racing across the woods, nothing but a blur to those who tried to follow.

"I'm basically the Flash," he muttered with a chuckle. The sheer *speed* excited him almost as much as the strength. And that wasn't all. He had *stamina* to match. No more getting tired during practice, no more struggling through endless nights. His body produced fewer fatigue toxins than any human's, granting him superhuman levels of endurance.

"Superhuman stamina," he murmured, feeling his muscles hum with latent energy. He could go for days without feeling worn out, pushing his body to its absolute limit. 

And then there was the agility. Scott moved lightly on his feet, shifting from one leg to the other. Every movement felt more precise, more controlled. He didn't just have strength and speed—he had *balance*, agility that went beyond anything an ordinary human could achieve. He could climb, jump, and maneuver without breaking a sweat, without missing a beat.

"Superhuman agility," he said with a satisfied nod.

But the powers didn't end there. His body—his *durability*—was next. He glanced down at his arms, flexing his fingers, feeling the unyielding strength beneath his skin. His body has an extraordinary resistance to injury, much tougher than any normal werewolf's. In his werewolf form He can withstand attacks from conventional weapons with little more than a scratch, and even more advanced weaponry has a hard time piercing his defenses. His durability grows alongside his strength, the more powerful he became, the harder it would be to injure him. The idea made him feel *invincible*.

And then there were his *senses*. He closed his eyes, letting them wash over him—the heightened smell, the sharper vision, the acute hearing. He could hear every breath in the house, every creak of the floorboards as someone moved downstairs, even the faintest rustle of leaves outside. He could smell the soap he'd used the night before, the lingering scent of the forest still clinging to his skin. Everything was amplified, crystal clear.

"Superhuman senses," he whispered, grinning to himself. He opened his eyes again, the world around him sharper, more defined. It wasn't just seeing—it was *feeling* everything on a deeper level.

Scott paused, considering the full extent of his abilities. The powers seemed endless, each one building on the last. But three of them stood out—three that made his pulse quicken with excitement.

"Dominion," he said quietly, his voice filled with awe. It was the ultimate form of control. He would have absolute command over his powers, his emotions, his very *self*. No more losing control during the full moon, no more giving in to the primal urges of the wolf inside. He would be the master of his own fate, never a victim to the instincts that had once ruled Scott McCall's life. 

"I won't ever lose control," he promised himself, a determined glint in his eyes.

Then there was *power absorption*—the ability to take the powers of other supernatural beings. Scott's breath caught in his throat as he considered the possibilities. The world of *Teen Wolf* was full of creatures—each with their own unique abilities, strengths, weaknesses. And he could take those strengths for himself, absorb their power, their very life energy, through his claws. 

"I can become even stronger," he whispered, the idea filling him with anticipation. He could make those abilities his own, mastering them, integrating them into his arsenal. 

But the final power—the one that made his heart race the most—was *invulnerability*. Scott's mind reeled as he considered the implications. He would be immune to the things that had plagued werewolves for centuries. Silver, wolfsbane, even electricity and poison—they wouldn't touch him. He could walk through mountain ash as if it was nothing, immune to its effects, and immune to mental attacks. 

"No weaknesses," he said softly, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Only stronger supernatural beings than me can hurt or kill me."

The weight of those words sank in, settling into his bones like a promise. He was no longer the vulnerable, indecisive boy Scott McCall had been. He was something *more*, something *stronger*. And with time, he would master these powers—become the most powerful werewolf in existence.

He closed his eyes for a moment, a grin tugged at his lips. 

"Dominion. Power absorption. Invulnerability," he said quietly, savoring the words. "Yeah…those are going to be my favorites."