After dispatching the last bandit in the room, the shapeshifter who had morphed into a red panda didn't stop immediately. For a bit, he bounded from one corner of the room to the other, tearing into the already lifeless bodies. I was just glad he didn't try to eat anyone; otherwise, I probably would have lost it and knocked him out with my Shock Sword. Even without such manifestations of cannibalism, my hand was increasingly tempted to reach for my weapon's hilt. I likely would have struck him if the animalistic rage had completely consumed the boy. But he regained his senses before my patience ran out. Rushing towards the room's exit, the panda paused in the doorway, and a wave of undulation rippled through the "beast's" fur, followed by another and another. Tedd's reversion to his human form took significantly less time than his initial transformation. He accomplished it in a mere ten seconds, after which the familiar boy was back, crouched in the doorway, swaying slightly.
Transfixed, the boy sat on the floor, staring at his blood-soaked hands that were crimson up to the elbows. His eyes were vacant, resembling a barren well. He flexed and unflexed his fists for nearly half a minute, never lifting his gaze from the floor. Then, he turned his head and took in the room: the walls stained with blood, the bodies mutilated beyond recognition, and the detached fingers and other body parts strewn across the floor. The boy's complexion first turned a deep purple, then as pale as marble. He drew in ragged breaths, his mouth wide open like a fish gasping for air on land, before he started to vomit. He retched violently, as if trying to purge his insides, gagging on bile and foam. The poor lad was well aware that he was the one responsible for the carnage, but it seemed he was struggling to come to terms with this realization. He continued to be sick for over a minute, and even when there was nothing left to expel, he was still seized by dry heaves and convulsions.
Yet all things end, and so did his bout of sickness. After another vain attempt to throw up, the boy staggered on all fours but managed to avoid falling. Gathering his strength, he rose to his feet. His knees were visibly shaking. I assumed he would hurry to escape the blood-soaked room, but Tedd didn't. On unsteady legs, he crossed the threshold and entered the room. Carefully avoiding the blood pools with his bare feet, the boy circled the room, studying the dead bodies as if he sought to remember every detail of his deeds. Throughout his examination, his face resembled a wax mask, both in its pallor and its absence of emotion. After completing the round, he paused again at the entrance, shook his head, and loudly slapped his cheeks a couple of times.
"Keep calm and carry on," he whispered to himself. "You've already done it... There's no turning back."
Tedd spun around once more, surveying the aftermath. He swayed, but leaning against the wall, he stayed on his feet, though it seemed to be a struggle. The boy shook his head and, with difficulty, moved along the corridor while still leaning on the wall.
"I hope that among those I killed..." He began but stopped, gasping for air. "I hope the one who helped me wasn't among them..."
Unexpectedly, after picking up the keys, Tedd didn't head for the exit of the old bomb shelter. He first checked the torture room, assessing the condition of the unconscious rat shapeshifter, before returning to his cell to gather the chains and shackles. Once again, he went into the torture chamber and secured the overseer to an iron chair with the silver chains. During all this, the boy was murmuring almost inaudibly, like a mantra:
"I am a man... I am a warrior... I am strong..." And then he would start again: "I am a man... I am a warrior... I am strong..."
Once he was sure the rat shapeshifter was securely chained, the boy stood staring at the wall-mounted shower, as if debating whether to wash off the blood immediately. It seemed to me that he initially decided to do so, but upon reaching the shower, he glanced at his hands, then at the bound shapeshifter, and changed his mind. Apparently, he believed his interrogation techniques would be more effective with someone else's blood on his hands. There was no longer any doubt in my mind that Tedd intended to question the one who had held him captive.
"Purity?"
No, I still fail to comprehend the indestructible blade. There's someone likely about to apply some forceful questioning, and the wakizashi seems utterly indifferent. No, it truly doesn't care at all...
However, as Tedd neared the table and grabbed the tongs, "Purity" reacted instantly, freezing my hand. But the moment the boy, shaking his head, returned the instrument of torture, the chill in my hand vanished just as quickly.
"Pull yourself together!" he whispered through gritted teeth. "I need to find out what happened to my mother... I must... I won't be a coward... I will do what needs to be done!"
Following his declaration, he filled an empty bucket with cold water. Carrying the filled bucket, he strolled over to the iron chair where a shackled rat shapeshifter sat, yet to regain consciousness. Tedd stood frozen in place, mustering his courage before lifting the bucket and dumping its contents over the shapeshifter's head. However, he missed the outcome of his actions. Coincidentally, the shelter's lights went out at that exact moment. The entrance echoed with the sound of a muted explosion followed by a metallic crash of a steel door hitting concrete.
"Beer and claws!" The war cry of the red panda clan echoed from the hallway along with the clatter of armored feet on the floor.
Despite the pitch-black darkness, my Projection state allowed me to see certain things - outlines of objects, walls, and auras. Thus, I also observed Tedd's reaction to the intrusion. He froze for a moment, taking in the sounds, then made the right call - he dove into a corner of the room, lying down with his hands clasped behind his head. Whether someone taught him or he simply recalled it from a movie, he did everything correctly. Meanwhile, the rat shapeshifter remained eerily still on the iron chair - even a whole bucket of cold water failed to rouse him. Oddly enough, I had tried injecting more prana into the Shock Sword, but I hadn't anticipated such an extensive and prolonged blackout. Yet, the shapeshifter still showed no signs of consciousness.
Leaving Tedd in the torture room, I sneaked into the corridor. I had already observed the clan special forces in action, but my curiosity urged me to watch again. Apparently, the red panda clan was indeed going through hard times, as they could only spare six fighters to clear out the old bomb shelter. Despite their number, they were all seasoned shapeshifters, who, unlike Tedd, didn't need to fully transform to tap into the power of their inner Beast.
The more control a shapeshifter has, the more abilities and skills they can acquire from their second incarnation without resorting to full transformation. Plus, shapeshifters can use armor and weapons when in human form.
Five of the panda fighters were decked out in tech armor, while one was dressed rather casually in a typical business suit. I identified the latter as Gumm by his aura. Clearly, he knew that only one fighter, the rat shapeshifter, could offer any meaningful resistance to his squad in the old shelter, while the rest of the bandits were easy prey for the clan commandos.
The pandas were swift and coordinated. It was obvious they had been operating as a team for a considerable time. Despite encountering no resistance, they moved with utmost caution, likely suspecting a trap. Gumm seemed the most anxious; he couldn't fathom why no one was firing at them and where all the rat clan's guards had gone. Yet, he pushed his fighters forward, fearing that something unexpected might have happened and that Tedd could be in danger. The tension heightened among the commandos when they were about seven meters from the room where the carnage had occurred. The leading fighter raised his hand and halted; the rest followed suit.
"The smell of blood. Lots of blood. Different people," he whispered.
Gumm acted instantly. Being the last in line, he leaped to the front commando's side in a single bound. The familiar shapeshifter sniffed the air and his shoulders visibly relaxed, "Someone else's blood... Not ours. Forward!"
Evidently, experienced shapeshifters have sturdier nerves - they seemed barely fazed by the gruesome scene that Tedd had left behind. Only Gumm clicked his tongue, expressing surprise and approval simultaneously.
"One of our guys did this," one of the fighters murmured, nudging a severed hand with his boot and tracing a claw mark on the wall, "Young. Untrained. Can't control his beast."
"Secure your weapons! Get the stun guns. Does anyone need a refresher on how to handle young ones who've lost control?" Gumm immediately commanded.
"Been a while," the senior commando shrugged but quickly corrected himself, "We've got this!"
The torture chamber was nearby, so they quickly discovered the boy and the chained "rat." The sight of a bound adult, an experienced shapeshifter from a lowly clan, visibly unsettled Gumm.
"Stop!" he ordered, spotting the boy lying face down.
He took a few steps towards Tedd without touching him, and said, "Beer and claws, boy. Beer and claws... You can get up... You're one of us."
"I'm not yours," Tedd retorted, rising to his feet.
"Believe what you will..." Gumm responded defiantly, with a hint of indifference, then continued, "But to the clan, you'll always be ours."
Emergency lamps flickered on in the former shelter as he finished speaking.
"I don't know you," Tedd stated, backing up until his back hit the wall upon recognizing who he was speaking to.
"You can call me Uncle Gumm," the older shapeshifter replied with a faint smile.
"I won't call just any random... " The boy's words trailed off, seemingly still in shock, his self-control slipping as anger surfaced.
"I truly am your uncle," Gumm interrupted him.
"It doesn't matter," the boy spat back, baring his teeth uncertainly and shifting his gaze.
"By the way, how did you deal with him?" Gumm shifted his own gaze to the chained rat, still unconscious. As he finished speaking, one of the fighters who had just examined the knocked-out shapeshifter reported, "Stoned to death. Hashish, a couple of grams, judging by the smell."
So that's why the Shock Sword had been so potent; it seemed this technique was particularly effective on the intoxicated.
"It wasn't difficult once I got the keys to the shackles," the boy replied with a smirk.
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He's smart! He didn't lie, yet managed to thoroughly confuse them while allowing them to fill in the blanks with their own imagination, crafting a scenario that didn't actually occur.
"Not difficult?" Gumm echoed doubtfully. "You've never killed before, and now so many at once..."
"I know!!!" The boy's voice cracked.
"It's not your fault," the seasoned shapeshifter reassured, approaching the boy and placing a hand on his shoulder. The boy made no move to pull away. "Those who awaken the power of Blood must learn control. Even those raised in the clans often struggle to fully control their Beast."
"You... You don't understand..." Tedd's speech was strained, but he pushed on. "I knew what was happening... I could still think... It's just... For some reason..."
"It just felt right to kill them all?" Gumm interjected, gripping the boy's shoulder tighter. The boy nodded. "And you didn't have a doubt in your mind."
"Yes..."
"You are the predator. They are the prey."
"Yes..."
"They hurt you, and you only returned the favor - it felt fair, didn't it?"
"Yes..."
With each affirmation, Tedd's demeanor grew increasingly somber. It was evidently challenging for him to recall his actions while in beast form. Gumm's conduct was also discernible to me - he was attempting to soothe the boy, to rationalize the situation. As the pair made their way towards the bomb shelter's exit, the seasoned shapeshifter continued his discourse. Being unfamiliar with the intricacies of shapeshifters, I listened to his narrative with rapt interest.
Despite retaining their intellect when they morph into a beast, shapeshifters undergo a drastic psychological shift, adopting a more animalistic mindset. To maintain rationality while unleashing their inner beast, shapeshifters undergo rigorous training - a process where practice and capable mentors are invaluable. Tedd, who had chosen not to join a clan, had attempted to avoid shifting. Today's transformation was only his third, with the first two taking place in a dense forest outside the city. The poor chap was oblivious to the methods required to preserve his humanity while in beast form, which led to the bloodshed he had caused. At least, that's how Gumm explained it, and his rationale was so convincing that even I found it credible, let alone the boy.
Apparently, the lad was not himself when he ripped the thugs apart, shattering their bones and gnawing off their fingers. Granted, I found it hard to comprehend the notion of being "out of your mind" while still retaining reason. But for this duo, no explanation was necessary - they understood all too well.
As the shapeshifters neared the room with the corpses, Gumm tactfully attempted to divert the boy's attention, but to no avail. Defiantly, Tedd stood in the doorway, observing the aftermath of the massacre for a full minute. He stared in silence, barely blinking, and only his pallid complexion betrayed his emotions.
"We need to get you out," Gumm asserted, placing his hand on the young shapeshifter's shoulder once more and gently urging him towards the exit. "It might not be safe here."
"They kidnapped my mother and me together," Tedd protested, shaking his head. "I'm not leaving until I find her!"
"We've found your mother. She's safe." Seizing the opportunity of the boy's bewilderment at his response, Gumm hastened his exit. "The police are already aware of our assault, and it's best we get you out before they arrive."
"But..."
"But what? Do you want to explain yourself to the police over nine dead bodies?"
"I..."
"Yes, you were within your rights, but you chose to remain a loner!" The seasoned shapeshifter's tone escalated. "We can't officially represent you without triggering unwanted rumors and damaging your reputation. Our adversaries might exploit your case for a show trial." The statements seemed contradictory to me - helping here, but not there - but the boy failed to notice the inconsistencies.
"My mother..." Tedd scowled stubbornly, coming to a halt. "Where is she?"
"She's in the hospital."
"The hospital?"
"Yes, it seems the call for an ambulance, which was intercepted by those rats, was legitimate." I couldn't help but admire how deftly Gumm shifted the blame onto the rats, even though his own people were responsible for the woman's stroke.
"What's wrong with her?!" The boy turned an even paler shade.
"She had a stroke. Her life isn't in danger, but I won't sugarcoat it: the situation isn't great."
"I need to see her!"
"First, you need to get out of here, clean up, and change!" Gumm raised the boy's blood-covered hand to eye level. "Or do you plan on showing up at the hospital looking like this?"
"N-n-no..." Tedd finally realized the state he was in after the slaughter.
"Then get moving; every second counts!" This time, Gumm was more forceful, and it had the desired effect. The pair of shapeshifters made their way towards the exit of the former bomb shelter at a much quicker pace.
"Why are you helping me?" The boy finally voiced the question that had evidently been lingering in his mind. "After I refused, they said the family wouldn't help me."
"The leadership in the clan has changed recently," the shapeshifter shrugged. "You're one of us, and even choosing your own path won't change that."
"But..."
"No buts! We won't pressure you, but we will always consider you one of us. If necessary, we will assist with training to prevent this from happening again." Gumm gestured vaguely behind them. "Understand that even your firm decision to go it alone doesn't negate the necessity of finding a way to communicate with your inner Beast."
As they navigated the dark corridor, Gumm worked on indoctrinating the boy. While he wasn't as skilled at it as Zanh Kiem or Mr. Rock, Tedd was in a near-shock state, and his uncle's words gradually began to resonate. When they emerged from the corridor, Gumm didn't lead the boy to the street exit, but instead, to a corner of the warehouse. There, an employee shower was located, where Tedd quickly washed off the blood. Afterwards, his uncle tossed him what appeared to be a pre-prepared docker's uniform. As the boy showered and changed, Gumm kept talking, subtly implanting the necessary thoughts into the boy's mind.
I observe this whole situation somewhat detached, unable to decide on my next course of action. Should I reveal to Tedd the truth about his abduction, or maintain my silence? Should I intervene, or let events unfold naturally? As per usual, "Purity" continues to masquerade as a mere sword, unresponsive to my thoughts. For once, I would gladly heed the wakizashi's demands, freeing myself from the weight of responsibility, but it seems today is not the day. I could, of course, simply abandon everything and leave this instant. Tedd is most likely no longer in considerable danger; otherwise, his uncle would not have remained so composed, wasting precious time in conversation. That is to say, I have fulfilled "Purity's" directive - I saved the boy. In essence, I am now free to pursue my own affairs. This is all true, yet something within me prevents me from simply Sliding away and forgetting this entire ordeal, and this something is not my swords.
"The police have arrived," Gumm abruptly shifted the conversation as soon as the boy transformed. "However, they're currently occupied with other matters."
"Other matters?" Tedd was confused.
"We executed several diversionary tactics before coming to rescue you," the seasoned shapeshifter shrugged dismissively, slightly overacting. "While they're preoccupied, it would be best for us to slip away unnoticed. It's not that we're in any immediate danger... We pay our lawyers enough to justify our attack on your captors, even though you haven't officially sworn allegiance to the clan. However, we would like to avoid publicizing certain... details of what transpired in the bunker."
The words hit their mark, and the boy blanched again, recalling the murders he had committed.
"Don't be too hard on yourself," his uncle clapped him on the back, guiding him towards the back door. "You did everything correctly. Yes, perhaps you overstepped. But, your actions against your captors were absolutely justified. If you were my son, I'd be proud of you."
"But, I..." Tedd began to protest, but he was evidently struggling to articulate his thoughts.
"The only negative aspect is that you lost control and created a scene unbecoming of noble lineage. The way you killed was reminiscent of the lowliest: dirty, emotional, without control over the Beast. What we wish to suppress is not the murders themselves..." Gumm paused, spinning the boy around to look him in the eyes. "...but the manner in which you killed."
"A blemish on the clan's reputation?" The boy flinched.
"I won't sugarcoat it. That's the truth," Gumm confessed, adopting a more confidential tone as he continued his persuasion. "Regardless of your personal views, we share the same blood. Your actions in life will inevitably reflect upon us."
"So now you're going to be my babysitter... following me everywhere?" The boy retorted sharply.
"Babysitter?" The older one seemed taken aback by the term. "I'm your uncle! We're family!"
"Sorry." Tedd relented under the elder shapeshifter's pressure.
Exiting the warehouse, Gumm guided the boy out of the warehouse district, but not directly. In the not-so-distant background, police sirens wailed and a helicopter buzzed overhead. It appeared that the seasoned shapeshifter had a good sense of where the law enforcement was positioned and adeptly evaded them, all while persistently trying to convince his nephew. Yet, it seemed to me that Gumm was completely genuine in his belief. He wasn't putting on an act; he truly wanted to persuade the boy to rethink his stance and join the clan.
As far as I could tell, the main obstacle that initially led the boy to reject this offer was a stipulation in the red pandas' code. The rule, set by the founder of the dynasty, stated that concubines who birthed a shapeshifter of their bloodline couldn't partake in raising the child. This rule was irrevocable. In the past, adolescents who awakened their "true" blood were simply taken away from their mothers without consent. However, times have changed. Additionally, the duke found it advantageous to have clanless shapeshifters, free from clan oaths, serving the Castle. Therefore, the red pandas couldn't force Tedd to leave his mother. The former clan leadership also believed that the boy would eventually come to his senses and return to them. Chasing after him to persuade him was beneath them and would tarnish the reputation of such a prestigious clan. Even the threat of degeneration couldn't sway the former patriarch to offer the boy concessions, like allowing him to see his mother a few times a week. Gumm was now trying to convince Tedd that with a new patriarch, some rules could be more flexibly interpreted. As it seemed to me, by the time they reached the port gates, the boy was nearly persuaded. However, he wanted to see his mother before making his final decision.
I'm observing this narrative from a distance, and I'm increasingly convinced that I shouldn't meddle. True, the red panda clan leaders have resorted to dirty tricks. But their motives are understandable to me. The survival of their clan hangs in the balance. Moreover, if I were to take Gumm's hints seriously, the lad is in for a rather colorful and active love life. Is that so bad? Had it not been for the seizure suffered by Tedd's mother, induced by sleeping pills, I would likely be completely on Gumm's side. Granted, the lad has a father, but I fear he lacks not only the time to raise his son but also for his own personal life, much like any of the heir's personal curators.
Yes, technically, by Novilter's laws, Tedd could tell everyone to take a hike and go his own way. But what's tolerable for a commoner isn't necessarily the best option for someone of "noble" blood. Gumm is right; if the lad follows this path, as soon as he turns eighteen and officially registers as a shapeshifter, his peaceful life will be over. He'll either become a puppet in the wrong hands or end up in the service of the Castle. Alternatively, he could choose the path of the members of Sharp Knives, which, in my opinion, is far from an ideal option.
"Will I be able to see my mother?" The lad clarifies, as they're roughly fifty steps away from the port gate.
"The clan code allows you to visit a sick relative," his uncle nods in response. "I'm afraid your mother won't be able to take care of you anymore."
Upon hearing this, Tedd involuntarily clenches his fists, a reaction Gumm doesn't miss, and he continues to speak.
"Calm down! Those responsible for this are already dead," he declares, not even blinking as he voices this lie. "The rat clan Sherst, who orchestrated your abduction, suffered significant losses and will likely be forced to leave the capital. They've paid the price, and further vengeance would be excessive and carry repercussions."
"Why did they kidnap me?"
"Ransom," Gumm shrugs nonchalantly. "Our clan is wealthy, and you, although not part of the clan, share our blood."
"Would you have paid if you hadn't discovered who was behind the kidnapping?" Tedd asks skeptically.
"We would have," the older shapeshifter responds, and this time, even I believe him.
"How did you find out?"
"We've been watching your apartment for a while," Gumm admits, attempting to win the lad's trust through honesty.
"I figured as much," the lad nods, seemingly unoffended. "And that's probably the right call, looking at it from your perspective."
"Good thinking," the older shapeshifter affirms, patting the boy on the back approvingly.
It seems the uncle has managed to curry favor with his nephew, as he confesses, "Remember when I said that once I got the keys to my shackles, the rest was easy?"
"Yes."
"Well, the truth is..."
At this point, the pair of shapeshifters were walking through a parking lot, heading towards an inconspicuous minivan. A black SUV suddenly braking in front of them interrupts the boy mid-sentence. Gumm steps aside, his aura shifting to purplish hues, his hand reaching for his belt. The next moment, Tedd is flung to the side, landing between two vehicles, while a .45 caliber gun handle confidently rests in the older shapeshifter's palm. Before the SUV could fully stop, the driver's door swings open, and a hulking man of about two meters tall and weighing well over a hundred kilograms leaps onto the asphalt.
Gumm's pistol dipped down, the muzzle pointing towards the ground, the shapeshifter's hand trembling noticeably.
"Hello, brother."
"Hello..."