Kain left the alleyway, his body moving on autopilot as he followed Belmont’s lead through the empty streets. The morning light was beginning to seep through the cracks in the clouds, casting a grey, indifferent glow over the bloodstains he left behind. He didn’t look back. Couldn’t. The echoes of Steele, Ingrid, Sparks, Fiona, and Caleb lingered in his mind, their voices and thoughts blending into a dissonant hum that pulsed alongside the lingering hunger. He could almost feel them, not just memories but ghosts, trailing him with every step. He wondered how much longer he could carry them—or if they were carrying him instead.

He clenched his fists, feeling the crackle of power just beneath the surface of his skin. Each step felt heavier, as if he were carrying not only his own weight but the burdens of the lives he’d absorbed. The rush of new abilities warred with the dizzying flood of memories, each one like a fragment of glass lodged in his brain, sharp and uncomfortable. Belmont, walking a few paces ahead, glanced back, a steady presence in the chaos.

“Focus on breathing, Kain,” Belmont instructed, his voice cutting through the noise. “Let their memories flow, but don’t drown in them. Absorbing others is an ancient, brutal art. You need to make their skills yours, not become a patchwork of their lives.”

Kain nodded, inhaling deeply. As he walked, he allowed himself to sink into the memories, picking out strands like threads in a tangled web. Steele’s presence was the strongest, the man’s ironclad sense of duty and unyielding resolve flaring to life inside Kain’s mind. He felt Steele’s years of training settle into his muscles, felt the instinctive knowledge of stances, strikes, and the unbreakable fortitude that came from a lifetime of discipline.

He moved his hand, tightening it into a fist. Titan Skin, Steele’s legacy, gave him a physical resilience he could feel coursing through his bones, like a protective armor beneath his flesh. Reinforced Strike, the ability to channel that strength into a single devastating blow, hummed just beneath his knuckles. His fists clenched as he let the power simmer, and for a brief moment, he felt invincible.

Then, without warning, Ingrid’s memories surged to the forefront. He felt a chill spread from his chest, a coldness that brought clarity. The frost mage’s arcane talents whispered through him, filling his lungs with the taste of winter. He felt the Frost Aura coil around him, a subtle haze of ice forming on his skin. As he exhaled, a plume of cold air escaped his lips, his body instinctively tapping into Winter’s Breath. With a wave of his hand, a thin frost began to gather on the ground beneath his feet, like a shadow that radiated cold. For a moment, his fingers felt almost numb, as though he’d held onto a block of ice too long, and he could feel frost clinging to his eyelashes, every breath a cloud. It wasn’t just a power—it was like slipping into someone else’s skin.

“A Jotunheim frost mage,” Belmont observed, nodding approvingly. “Their kind wield cold with a precision that matches their discipline. Don’t underestimate the power of ice, Kain. It can be both shield and weapon, if you learn to control it.”

Doc’s voice slipped in, laced with a mocking tone. “Oh, listen to the wolf spout wisdom. Ice is pretty, sure, but don’t forget that it shatters just as easily. Strength is nothing without the will to break things, kid. Speaking of which, there’s more in there, isn’t there? That tech guy, Sparks. What did he leave behind?”

Kain closed his eyes, focusing on Sparks’ memories. The young tech specialist’s abilities were different, subtle but effective. Enhanced reflexes, like a constant hum of adrenaline, sharpened his awareness. Kain could feel a new clarity in his vision, as if he could see farther, perceive more details. His senses felt fine-tuned, as if he’d been living in a haze until now. And there was something else—a residual connection to technology, an instinctual understanding of machines and electronics, from Sparks’ neural interface.

Doc’s voice slipped into his mind, eager and prodding. “You feel that, kid? That’s Sparks in your veins. Every circuit, every wire—it’s all yours now.” Belmont’s voice followed, calm but firm. “Use it wisely, Kain. Don’t let it own you.”

He flicked his eyes up, spotting a broken security camera on a nearby building. Almost without thinking, he reached out, focusing on the residual tech within. For a brief moment, he felt a jolt of connection, like his mind had brushed against the camera’s circuits, sensing the energy within.

“Useful, isn’t it?” Doc murmured, clearly intrigued. “You’re a walking Swiss Army knife now. Just think of the chaos you could cause with a bit of Sparks’ tech and Ingrid’s ice. Or maybe Fiona’s explosive little gifts…”

As if summoned by his thoughts, Fiona’s memories crashed through him, an overwhelming surge of adrenaline and ferocity. He felt the burn in his muscles, the Iron Grip she’d possessed, the raw strength that had allowed her to handle heavy weaponry like it was nothing. He clenched his fists, feeling the urge to tear something apart. Her tactical knowledge of demolitions and heavy weapons seeped into his mind, a brutal awareness of firepower and destruction that felt as natural to him now as breathing.

“Steele’s resolve, Ingrid’s chill, Sparks’ eyes, Fiona’s fury,” Kain muttered under his breath, feeling the weight of each person he’d absorbed. “And then there’s Caleb…”

He focused on the last memory, Caleb’s gentle presence, almost a balm to the chaos raging in his mind. He felt a subtle warmth spreading through his chest, a soothing sensation that contrasted sharply with Ingrid’s cold. Caleb’s healing magic was faint, like the soft glow of an ember in the dark, but it was there—a calming force that allowed him to heal minor wounds and slow blood loss.

“Caleb’s regenerative abilities aren’t strong, but they’re steady,” Belmont noted, his tone softening. “He was a healer at heart. Use his gifts to keep yourself alive, but don’t depend on them. You’re still mortal, Kain. And you’ll bleed just like anyone else if you’re not careful.”

They walked in silence for a few moments, Belmont leading him through the narrow streets, the shadows stretching long as the day wore on. Kain let the abilities settle, each one feeling more like his own with every step. He flexed his fingers, feeling the combined strength, speed, and resilience they’d gifted him. It was intoxicating, this surge of power. He could feel the hunger simmering just beneath the surface, a dark pulse that urged him to keep going, to take more.

Doc’s voice purred, almost seductively. “Admit it, Kain. You liked the taste, didn’t you? The thrill of it, the raw power coursing through you. I know that feeling. There’s beauty in the consumption, in becoming something greater with each soul you take.”

Kain shuddered, shaking off the lingering feeling of euphoria. “I don’t want to become a monster, Doc.”

“Too late,” Doc replied, his tone almost laughing. “But who said being a monster had to be a bad thing? The world is full of creatures who wear masks of humanity, pretending they’re anything but beasts. At least now you can shed that pretense. Embrace it.”

Belmont growled, his presence surging forward. “Don’t listen to him, Kain. The hunger is a tool, not a master. You have to rise above it. That’s the Lupus way. We take only what we need, honoring the lives we consume by living with purpose.”

Kain sighed, running a hand over his face. “You two are going to drive me insane.”

“Consider it a side effect of power,” Belmont replied, his tone softening. “But I’ll guide you, Kain. I’ll show you what it means to follow the path of Lupus. The journey is long, but it’s one that leads to true strength—strength that doesn’t come from mindless consumption, but from the tempered fire of will.”

Kain didn’t respond, but he felt a quiet sense of gratitude. Belmont’s presence was steady, a rock amidst the storm of chaos within him. For now, that would have to be enough.

As they reached the outskirts of town, Belmont gestured toward a narrow path winding up the hills, half-hidden by thick foliage. “The safe house is this way. We’ll rest there, regroup. I’ll explain more about what you’ve stepped into, what lies beyond this town.”

They climbed the path in silence, Kain feeling the new power coursing through him with each step. He could sense the changes, the abilities, the memories that were now a part of him, melding with his own instincts. As they reached the crest of the hill, he paused, looking back over the town, the bloodstains fading into the distance.

He felt a strange sense of finality, like he’d left a part of himself behind. But as he turned to follow Belmont into the shadows, he knew he’d gained something far more potent. Power, yes. But also a purpose, however twisted and uncertain.

The hunger still simmered beneath the surface, a beast waiting to be fed. But as he stepped into the safe house, Kain knew he wasn’t alone. And for the first time, he felt like he had a fighting chance. The hunt had only just begun.