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PROJECT: CAYRO
Chapter 57: Painted in Blood and Death

Chapter 57: Painted in Blood and Death

Cayro Bracton:

September 11, 2025

21:37 CST

Zaraki Mansion

Cedar Rapids IA.

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I was knocked off my feet as Cameron Balfour tackled me and Star to the ground. A gunshot rang out, sharp and echoing in my ears. Cameron groaned, his weight pressing down on us, and I felt something warm trickling onto my face. Looking up, I saw blood streaming from a wound on his neck, his breaths becoming ragged and labored. My mind raced—why had he jumped on us? Was that gunshot meant for me? For Star?

The wailing of sirens pierced the night, adding to the chaos. Before I could process what was happening, someone grabbed my arm and yanked me out from under Cameron’s limp body. I stumbled to my feet and reached down to help Star up, my gaze catching the dark red stain spreading across Cameron’s back. He had been shot, and it suddenly made sense—he had taken the bullet meant for us.

Director Staroko appeared in my line of sight, his expression frantic, eyes wide with urgency.

“Cayro!” he yelled, thrusting my skyboard into my hands. “Get to the mansion, now!”

More gunfire erupted, a deafening volley that sent the crowd into a frenzy. Screams filled the air as people rushed into the arena, some half-shifted, their forms caught between human and wolf. Then, a deep, eerie howl cut through the noise. I turned to see Director Staroko, now in his wolf form, his snout raised to the sky, calling his pack to action.

“Cayro!” Star’s voice snapped me out of my daze.

“We need to go!” she urged, her voice firm and steady despite the panic in her eyes. She was already on her board, ready to take off. I blinked, trying to clear my head, and followed her lead, climbing onto my board and lifting off into the night sky.

Below us, the stadium had descended into chaos. Bodies littered the ground, unmoving, while wolves rallied around Director Staroko, then charged towards the source of the gunfire. I looked over at Star, seeing the same confusion and worry reflected in her eyes.

“What the hell is going on?” I shouted over the wind.

“I have no idea,” she replied, her voice tight with fear.

Scuzball’s voice crackled through my implant, clear and urgent. “Both of you, get back to the mansion. We need to evacuate immediately. The compound is under attack.”

“How do we know the mansion is safe?” Star questioned, her voice sharp.

“I have it on lockdown,” Scuzball responded. “Approach from above. There’s a landing pad on the back roof. Fly high and fast. We need to get you out of here.”

Without hesitation, we shot upwards, pushing our boards to their limits. Gunfire continued to ring out across the SkyTeam compound, the sound punctuated by the haunting howls of wolves. As we neared the mansion, bullets whizzed past us, some ricocheting off our boards. I flattened myself against my board, praying we wouldn’t get hit. Miraculously, the boards held up, their design more resilient than I had imagined.

A large bay door opened in the roof just as we arrived. We both ducked down, diving through the entrance. The door reversed, slamming shut with a resounding bang, sealing us inside what looked like a high-tech garage—or perhaps more accurately, a hangar. A black skycar was parked off to the side, and the house staff were frantically packing it with our belongings.

I took a moment to catch my breath, my mind still spinning from the chaos we’d just escaped.

“Where’s the other skycar, Scuzball?” I asked, my eyes narrowing as I tried to make sense of the sleek black vehicle before us.

“Right here. I had Director Staroko repaint it once we arrived. Now attach your boards to the roof and get in. We have to go,” Scuzball responded, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“You said we’re under attack? Who’s coming after SkyTeam?” I pressed, confusion still clouding my thoughts.

“I don’t know, Cayro. They hit the compound too fast for me to gather any intel,” he replied, his usual snark absent, replaced by a grim seriousness.

“We aren’t leaving!” Star’s voice cut through our conversation, her growl laced with defiance.

“We aren’t?” I turned toward her, taken aback by the sudden shift.

“No! We’re not going to abandon Director Staroko and Dr. Volkova to fend for themselves, no matter how pissed off I am with my father. Now get your suit on,” she ordered, yanking the suit container out of the skycar with a force that matched her resolve.

“But Star, my job is to protect you… We can’t stay here,” Scuzball countered, almost pleading.

“Scuzball, I don’t give a damn. I’m not running while others stay and fight. If you want to protect us, then you’d better work with us,” she barked back, her voice brooking no argument.

“Star, evacuation is the only viable option. I have no means of safeguarding you if you stay,” he insisted, and for the first time, I heard something in his voice that sounded like worry.

“Bullshit!” she roared, her frustration boiling over.

I couldn’t help but agree with her. Running away felt wrong, like a cowardly retreat that wouldn’t earn us any favors. Turning away from their heated exchange, I focused on two of the house staff standing nearby.

“You and you, over here. Help us get these on,” I ordered, pointing to them.

They quickly abandoned what they were doing and rushed over to assist. Glancing at the rest of the staff, I barked out new orders, feeling a strong, instinctual need to protect them and ensure their safety.

“How many of you are wolves?” I demanded.

“All of us,” one of them replied without hesitation.

“Gather the rest of the staff and take defensive positions throughout the house. This is now combat headquarters. Spread the word: all unarmed personnel report here. All wolves, defend this location at any cost,” I commanded, surprised by the authority in my voice.

“YES, ALPHA!” the entire room echoed, the response so unanimous and forceful that it made me blink in surprise.

They sprang into action without a second thought, leaving me momentarily stunned. I had never seen myself as a leader outside of the shop back home, and with zero military training, their immediate obedience caught me off guard. Yet here I was, stepping into a role I hadn’t expected. I just hoped I wasn’t leading them into disaster.

“Scuzball, list off the full armament complement of this skycar!” Star’s sharp command snapped me out of my thoughts.

“Two GAU-2/A auto cannons with a three-thousand-round capacity in total. Two Sky-Lock prototype micro laser cannons. Recharge rate of seven seconds between volleys. That’s all,” Scuzball rattled off quickly.

“Gamma Four Six Dash Zero One One Seven. Activate Amethyst Protocol!” Star ordered, her tone deadly serious.

“Protocol activated, Star Zaraki,” responded a different, distinctly female voice from the car, not Scuzball’s usual tone. I turned to Star, confusion written all over my face.

“What?” she asked, noticing my expression.

“Where did that command come from?” I asked, trying to wrap my head around what just happened.

“I lived on board the Autumn for nearly thirteen years with full admin access to everything. Did you really think I wouldn’t figure out how to fully operate one of these vehicles? I activated the autopilot weapons system. It’s normally locked out when the autopilot is engaged, and Scuzball can’t access it because he’s a computer program. Now he has weapons and no excuse not to protect us,” she explained bluntly.

“Thank you, Star,” Scuzball replied, his tone clipped, betraying a hint of something—maybe irritation or urgency. Who could tell with an AI?

“You’re welcome. Now stop wasting time. We need to get out there,” she grumbled, her hands already moving to pull parts of her suit from the box. I arched an eyebrow, nodding in agreement. She had a point; this was no time to hesitate.

In just a few minutes, with the help of the staff, Star and I were suited up and ready. Once Star was finished, she leaned into the skycar, punching a code into the console too quickly for me to catch. A compartment on the passenger side of the skycar popped open, revealing a rack of M-4 military rifles. Without hesitation, she grabbed them, along with eight fully loaded magazines. She tossed one rifle to me before slamming a magazine into her own and pulling the charging handle back with a practiced motion. I mirrored her, my hands remembering the drills my grandfather had put me through. I wasn’t as seasoned as she was, but this wasn’t the time for second-guessing. Star handed me three of the remaining magazines, and I used my nanites to create holsters for them. She followed suit without missing a beat.

As the door to the rooftop hangar began to open, I locked my helmet into place. Star and I took off, flying out above the mansion. We watched as the skycar lifted off with a vertical takeoff, heading out ahead of us. Below, the mansion grounds were alive with movement—members of SkyTeam running towards the house, protected by wolves acting as shields. Muzzle flashes and gunshots echoed through the night, their sharp cracks barely audible over the wind.

Holding my rifle at the low ready, I glanced over at Star. “What’s the plan?” I asked, my voice calm despite the adrenaline surging through me.

“Scuzball, fly ahead and target anyone who isn’t a wolf or a member of SkyTeam. We’re providing air support. Run dark until I give the signal. Cayro, stay on his right wingtip. I’ll take the left. We’re limited on ammo, so only fire when you’re sure of the shot. Make low passes,” she commanded, her tone steady and authoritative.

“Understood, Star,” Scuzball responded, his voice clear over the comms.

“Roger, Babe,” I confirmed.

We took flight, falling into formation with Scuzball in the lead and Star and me on either side. We flew low, skimming the treetops as we approached the source of the gunfire. As we cleared the trees, a grassy field opened up before us. Wolves were running towards the mansion, gunfire snapping around them. They looked disoriented, unsure of what to do. Breaking off from the formation, I doubled back.

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“Star, go ahead with Scuzball. I’m going to rally these wolves to help us,” I said over the comms.

“Okay, be safe,” she replied, concern lacing her voice.

“I will. See you in a bit,” I assured her, landing in front of the retreating wolves.

The wolves skidded to a stop, fear evident in their eyes as they took in the sight of me—suited up and armed. Realizing how threatening I must look, I quickly slung my rifle over my shoulder and removed my helmet. Their expressions shifted from fear to confusion as they recognized me.

“I’m here to help!” I called out, trying to project calm and authority. A few of them hesitated, stepping back. Raising my hands in a non-threatening gesture, I summoned them to me with a firm, “Come here…” I infused my voice with the power I was still getting used to. Slowly, nearly twenty wolves gathered around.

Suddenly, the staccato roar of Scuzball’s auto cannons filled the night. A few wolves flinched, instinctively crouching low, trying to take cover.

“Who’s in charge here?” I demanded, my voice cutting through the chaos.

A silver-furred wolf stepped forward, her voice rough with tension. “Our department leader was shot a few minutes ago. He told us to evacuate to the mansion.”

“Who here knows how to fight?” I asked, scanning the group of wolves before me.

“Most of us are submissive wolves,” the silver-furred wolf explained, her voice steady but tinged with worry. “The two dominant ones who could fight were taken out first. We’ve had some training, but we’re not equipped for live fire combat.”

“Fair enough,” I replied, assessing the situation. “Do you know how to hunt?”

“Yes,” she nodded.

“Good. Use that knowledge to help us fight. Have two wolves carry the injured back to the mansion. The rest of you, follow me. Form two lines behind me, making a column of twos. On my signal, spread out into a delta formation. We’re going to run the line while Lady Zaraki has them distracted,” I ordered, feeling a strange sense of urgency and excitement building within me.

The wolves moved quickly, falling into formation without question. The female who had spoken for the group positioned herself directly behind me, ready to lead them forward. I pulled my helmet back on and engaged the thrusters on my board, the roar of the engines sending a surge of adrenaline through me. The sound of their claws pounding the earth resonated in my ears, blending with the thrum of my heartbeat. I unslung my rifle, shouldering it and scanning for targets, my senses sharpening with each passing second.

As soon as I found a target, I aimed and pulled the trigger—nothing happened. Shit, the safety was still on. Flicking it off with my thumb, I felt two clicks. Odd, but there was no time to think about it. I refocused, pulled the trigger, and felt the rifle buck three times. An ammo counter and crosshair flashed onto my HUD: 17 rounds left out of 20. Must’ve been set to three-round burst mode. My first target went down, and a spark of satisfaction lit up inside me, a primal thrill that I couldn't quite name. The enemy noticed us and returned fire, bullets peppering the ground and glancing off my suit.

Switching the rifle to single-round fire, I found another target and fired, dropping them with a single shot. A small smile crept onto my face as I continued, taking down five more before signaling the wolves. I spread my arms wide, and they fanned out into a delta formation as we neared the battle line. Raising my rifle again, I sighted another target and fired. A battle cry erupted from my throat, fueled by a growing intensity, something deep and instinctual that demanded release as power rolled off me in waves. The wolves echoed me with fierce howls, and as we surged forward, a strange sense of exhilaration washed over me—this felt good, right even.

We hit the enemy with the force of a battering ram, and I reveled in the chaos. My body moved on instinct, each motion precise and powerful as I slashed through body armor and flesh. The screams of the enemy rang through the night, and instead of feeling horror, I felt a surge of satisfaction—an almost primal joy in the sheer physicality of it. Slinging my rifle, I let out another howl, this one of triumph, as my hands morphed into deadly claws. Without hesitation, I tore through the enemy, feeling an almost intoxicating sense of power as I ripped through their ranks.

The line of attackers crumbled under our assault, and as I led my wolves past it, I felt an unfamiliar yet welcome pride swelling in my chest. We had broken them, scattered them like prey before a pack. Just in time, Star and Scuzball flew overhead, their combined firepower finishing off the remnants of the group we had overrun.

“What’s the status of the rest of the facility?” I asked over the comms, my heart pounding like a war drum, a fierce determination driving me onward.

“There’s a major skirmish at the stadium,” Scuzball reported. “Director Staroko and Doctor Volkova are pinned down.”

I glanced over my shoulder and let out a high-pitched whistle to get the wolves’ attention. They quickly gathered around me, and I noticed, with satisfaction, that they had all made it—only a few with minor injuries.

“Reform the line!” I barked, my voice carrying an edge of authority that felt natural, almost second nature.

“YES, ALPHA!” they roared back, their voices strong and unified. I couldn’t help but grin as I picked up speed, leading them onward. The excitement of the fight surged within me, a strange, exhilarating mix of power and purpose that I couldn’t quite place.

“Scuzball, fly ahead and provide us with cover fire,” Star ordered, her voice steady and commanding.

“Understood,” Scuzball replied, his tone all business.

Star flew down and came up beside me as we led the wolves toward the stadium. The pounding of their claws on the ground synced perfectly with the beat of my heart. The sound resonated deep within me, stirring something primal that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. The landscape around us blurred—buildings, trees, obstacles—but they barely registered. All that mattered was moving forward, closing the distance to our objective.

The thought of catching up to our target sent a thrill through me, an urge to keep moving, keep pushing. The sense of purpose was undeniable, and it drove me forward with a growing intensity. There was no need to think too much about it; it was as if everything was aligning naturally. We had to reach them, we had to confront them—whatever it took.

As we approached another group of wolves running toward us, I heard a series of yips and growls from the female behind me. The other wolves quickly split and merged with us, doubling our numbers without missing a beat. It felt right, as if everything was falling into place. The pack was stronger now, more complete. We were ready to face whatever lay ahead.

The roar of the auto cannons ahead spurred us on, like a signal to pick up the pace.

“Cayro, I’m setting a point indicator on your HUD where Director Staroko and Dr. Volkova are located. You’ll need to circle around the stadium and hit the enemy from behind,” Scuzball’s voice crackled over the comms link.

“Got it,” I replied, focused and determined. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing—just a drive to follow the path laid out before us.

I banked left sharply, Star mirroring my move as the pack followed. The HUD indicator guided us, but it was more than that. There was a pull, an instinctual need to close in, to reach our target. Gunfire erupted to our right, the bullets peppering the ground near us. Without a second thought, I let out two sharp whistles, pointing toward the sound. Four wolves broke formation, darting off into the shadows. Moments later, the sounds of struggle ended in silence. Three wolves returned, eyes gleaming, ready to continue. One didn’t return, and though a flicker of loss crossed my mind, it was quickly overshadowed by the need to press on. The fallen were part of the process—part of the pursuit.

“Scuzball, can you give us a layout of where the Director and Doctor are?” Star’s voice cut through, calm yet urgent.

“On it,” Scuzball replied, and a three-dimensional map appeared on my HUD. The Director and Doctor were cornered, surrounded, but there was an undeniable sense that we were closing in on them. The prey had nowhere to go.

“Cayro, we need to split the pack in half and hit them from both sides,” Star suggested over the comms link.

She was right. We needed to encircle them, close off every escape route. I nodded, letting out a long whistle and pointing at Star. The left side of the pack peeled away, Star taking command. We were moving with purpose, in sync with each other and with the pack. The prey would be cornered soon enough.

The entrance to the stadium loomed ahead, the indicator on my HUD pulsing steadily. I brought my board to a halt and jumped off, leaving it behind as I moved toward the pried-open door. We entered the hallway, the lights casting long, flickering shadows. The air was thick with anticipation, the kind that comes before a storm. My adrenaline surged, fueling my every step. The wolves were right behind me, a solid presence that felt reassuring and natural. We were getting closer—I could feel it in my bones.

I slowed as we reached the final intersection, holding up my hand to signal the others. They followed suit without hesitation, their eyes glowing with readiness, their breaths steady and controlled. There was no need for words; we all knew what was about to happen. We were in the right place, at the right time. The prey was just ahead, waiting for us to strike.

“Star, are you in position?” I asked over the coms link, my voice tight with anticipation.

“Yes,” she replied, her voice a steady counterpoint to the excitement buzzing under my skin.

“Scuzball, can you inform Director Staroko to prepare to charge?” I asked, feeling a restless energy building inside me. I couldn’t stop myself from bouncing slightly on the balls of my feet.

“Informing now,” he replied, his voice fading as my focus narrowed.

I peeked around the corner, spotting the group of prey clustered near the entrance to the room where the Director and Doctor were trapped. The sight of them sent a surge of adrenaline through me, my instincts sharpening to a razor’s edge. Holding up three fingers, I counted down silently, each second dragging as I waited to release the tension coiling inside me.

On the last finger, I relayed, “Now…” and launched forward. The world around me blurred, my vision tunneling as I aimed my rifle at the nearest figure. The shot rang out, a precise strike to the man’s chest, and he crumpled without a sound. There was no satisfaction in the kill—only a relentless drive pushing me forward. The rifle became cumbersome, too slow for what needed to be done. I let it fall, and my claws reformed in an instant, an extension of my intent.

I slashed at the next man, feeling the sickening give of flesh and bone beneath my claws. The sensation sent a thrill through me, an electric charge that drove me onward. Blood sprayed, coating my face shield in a crimson veil, but it only fueled the fire inside. My wolves hit the group with a ferocity that matched my own, their snarls and growls blending into the chaotic symphony of battle. The sound resonated with something deep within me, something that reveled in the violence, in the hunt.

I twisted and drove my claw into another soldier’s gut, the resistance of his body barely registering as I tore through him. His groan of pain was a distant echo, lost in the rush of bloodlust that consumed me. His entrails slipped from my claws with a wet slap as I turned, already seeking my next target. I barely noticed the man who fired at my wolves, taking two of them down with brutal efficiency. My vision narrowed further, locking onto him with a single-minded focus. The anger that flared up wasn’t mine—it belonged to something else, something primal and ancient that demanded retribution.

He hit me with the butt of his rifle, the impact ringing through my helmet but failing to slow me down. I batted the rifle aside and slammed my fist into his chest, sending him sprawling across the floor. He scrambled to draw a pistol, but the action was futile. I was on him in a heartbeat, pinning his arm to the ground with a sickening crack. His scream cut through the air, sharp and desperate, as I ripped the armor from his body and tossed it aside.

The fight drained out of him, but it was far too late for mercy. My claws plunged into his chest with unrelenting force, tearing through skin and muscle like they were nothing. The satisfying crunch of his ribs shattering beneath my grip reverberated through me, fueling the feral hunger that roared inside. His struggles only heightened my thrill as I dug deeper, feeling the warmth of his blood gush over my hands, soaking through to the bone.

His heart fluttered weakly, a pitiful attempt to cling to life. I found it, that fragile, pulsing organ—his essence, his very being—and I gripped it with a ferocity that made his entire body convulse. The man’s eyes bulged in sheer terror as I tightened my hold, my claws piercing the tender flesh of his heart. I could feel the frantic beat quicken under my grasp, could sense the fear that coursed through him, and it only spurred me on.

With a brutal yank, I ripped his heart free, the wet, tearing sound almost drowned out by his guttural scream. Blood erupted from the gaping wound, splattering across my face and chest, but I hardly noticed. I held the heart up to his face, forcing him to see the last remnants of his life slipping away. His wide, terrified eyes locked onto mine, pleading for a mercy that would never come.

I slowly closed my hand, crushing the heart with deliberate, agonizing slowness. The thick muscle gave way, blood squirting out in thick, heavy streams, painting his face with the grotesque reality of his demise. His scream turned into a wet, choking gurgle as his body convulsed beneath me.

I leaned in close, my voice a low, menacing growl. “Die…”

The light in his eyes flickered, then faded into nothingness as I tossed the remnants of his heart aside. His body went limp, the last vestiges of life draining away, leaving only a hollow shell beneath me.

I rose slowly, surveying the carnage with cold, detached satisfaction. The hall was a slaughterhouse, the walls slick with blood, the floor littered with torn flesh and shattered bones. My wolves were drenched in gore, their eyes alight with the savage joy of the hunt. But the thrill that had driven me was already starting to wane, replaced by a creeping sense of unease.

I looked down at my blood-soaked hands, the reality of what I’d done beginning to sink in. The bile rose in my throat, the coppery scent of death thick in the air. I tore off my helmet, desperate for air, but the stench only intensified, making my stomach churn violently. I fell to my knees, retching uncontrollably as the horror of my actions crashed down on me.

The female wolf lifted me, her touch gentle, but it did little to calm the storm inside. I stared into her eyes, the reflection of my own blood-splattered body a stark reminder of the monster I had become.

“Oh God… What have I done?”