The salty sea breeze whipped across Daniel Ferente's weathered face, the brine stinging against tanned, sun-roughened skin. He had spent much of his life on the sea, but today felt different. Today, his heart beat with anticipation, his sharp gaze fixed on the distant horizon, waiting for the first sight of the coastline to emerge from the mist.
Seven years. It had been seven long years since he had last seen this land. He never expected this expedition to be the final one of his life, but after everything he had endured—the unrelenting hardships, the blood spilled in foreign lands, and the unbearable losses—he was tired. Bone-deep exhaustion settled into his very core.
For nearly twenty years, Daniel had explored the farthest reaches of the world, discovering treasures beyond imagination, encountering wonders both magnificent and terrifying. He had once felt a fire within him, an insatiable hunger for adventure. But now? Now, he longed for the warmth of a grand manor, a leather-tanned armchair before a roaring fire, a glass of the finest gin in his grasp. He imagined a gentle hand brushing against his cheek, the presence of a beautiful woman beside him—perhaps even several. A quiet life, filled with comfort and indulgence, was not an impossible dream.
Yet, as the ship drew closer to the shore, an uneasy feeling stirred within him.
Victoria Harbor
Jack had been waiting at the docks for two days, keeping a close watch on the horizon. News of Daniel's return had been received without incident, and everything had reportedly gone smoothly for him and his crew. But there was something else—something far more pressing occupying Jack's mind. James.
Lately, Master James had changed. The situation at Howlett Manor had grown increasingly dire, and Jack could only hope that the well-traveled and well-informed Daniel might be able to help.
As Daniel disembarked, Jack greeted him with a firm embrace, the relief evident in his weary expression.
They exchanged pleasantries, but the moment they settled into the carriage bound for the manor, Daniel wasted no time. He uncorked a bottle of gin and poured himself a generous glass.
"What did you say? James locked himself away?" Daniel asked sharply, the alcohol burning down his throat.
Jack hesitated before responding, choosing his words carefully. "A lot has changed in the past few years. There are… things in this world we never could have imagined before. Some people are not—" he paused, "—not entirely human."
Daniel scoffed, pouring another half-glass. "Boy, I've seen more than you can possibly comprehend. The things I've witnessed would drive lesser men to madness. And you—" he pointed at Jack, "—you surprise me by speaking of such things with fear in your voice."
Yet, as Jack continued speaking, detailing the strange and terrible events that had unfolded during the American Civil War, Daniel found himself gripped by an unease he had not felt in years.
For the first time, he wondered if the news he had brought back from his own journey would shock the people here—or if it was he who should brace himself for what awaited.
He took another swig of gin and listened.
---
Howlett Manor – The Depths Below
In the deepest part of the underground fortress, the dim firelight cast flickering shadows against the cold stone walls. The chamber was eerily silent, save for the occasional drip of water against stone.
James sat alone.
Before him lay a plate of caramelized steak, its rich aroma filling the air. Once, he would have savored every bite of the perfectly cooked filet—his personal selection from the finest cattle on the Howlett estate, prepared by a French chef who had long mastered his preferences.
Now, however, the once-beloved meal tasted like ash in his mouth.
James forced himself to chew, his jaw tightening as he swallowed. The sensation of consuming ordinary food had become unbearable. His body rebelled against it. He craved something else—something raw, something fresh. The thought sent an involuntary shudder through him.
Months had passed since his return to the manor, and in all that time, he had remained secluded in the underground chambers. He spoke only to Butler Wayne and Jack, keeping his distance from them by more than ten meters. Each day, food and news were delivered to his chamber, and each day, he fought the growing hunger within him.
James had changed.
The few who had seen him recoiled in horror.
Jack, in particular, was deeply concerned. He feared that James had been tainted by the darkness that had consumed Victor. There was no other way to explain what had happened.
The power James had stolen from Victor—the monstrous strength of the saber-toothed beast, combined with the mutant gene that already coursed through his veins—had fused into something new.
His body had transformed.
His once-human frame had grown impossibly large, his height now rivaling a giant's. Muscle had layered upon muscle, his very bones reforging themselves into something stronger, something unnatural. His once-pristine skin had darkened and toughened, his senses sharpened to an extreme beyond mortal limits.
The changes had not stopped there.
James could feel the pull of something ancient, something lurking beneath his very soul. A shadowed force clawed at the edges of his mind, whispering of blood and hunger.
He refused to succumb to it.
He trained, tirelessly pushing his body to its limits in an attempt to control his newfound abilities. He shattered steel equipment without effort, crushed stone beneath his grip, and yet—it was not enough.
The beast inside him would not be tamed so easily.
---
A Visitor in the Darkness
A distant ringing broke the silence of the chamber. The iron bell hanging outside his door—a signal for urgent matters—echoed through the underground halls.
James rose from his seat, his massive frame casting a monstrous silhouette against the firelit walls. He reached out, grasping the iron lever and pulling it downward—a silent acknowledgment that he was aware of the visitor.
Daniel had never been inside the underground corridors of Howlett Manor before. The last time he had been here, the renovations were still underway. Now, as he descended into the depths, he felt an overwhelming sense of foreboding.
The craftsmanship was exquisite, a masterwork of the era's finest architecture. The air was fresh, devoid of the damp staleness he had expected. The oil lamps lining the walls were placed with mathematical precision, illuminating the path without excess shadows.
And yet, an unnatural chill crawled up Daniel's spine.
Butler Wayne had offered him only one piece of advice before sending him down.
"No matter what you see, do not be afraid."
Daniel swallowed hard. His footsteps echoed against the stone as he ventured deeper.
"James? It's me. Daniel. Are you here?"
The voice that answered sent ice through his veins.
"I'm here."
The voice was James', but not as Daniel remembered. It was deeper, hoarser—like something growling beneath human words.
Daniel stepped forward, and through the dim firelight, he saw him.
James sat cross-legged in the center of the chamber, his form immense, his shoulders broader than any man's should be. The flickering flames cast jagged shadows across his face, highlighting features that were once familiar but now twisted into something else.
"James… what happened to you?" Daniel whispered.
James exhaled slowly. He could hear the heartbeat in Daniel's chest, smell the blood pulsing just beneath his skin. He clenched his jaw, feeling the sharp points of elongated canines pressing against his lips.
"You brought news," James said, voice tight. "Tell me about Wakanda. Now."
Daniel hesitated, but James' piercing gaze left no room for argument.
So he told him.
And deep beneath the Howlett estate, as Daniel recounted his tale, James' fangs lengthened. His hunger sharpened.
The beast inside him stirred.
And for the first time, James wondered if it could ever truly be silenced.
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